


One Wedding Brings Another

by Havanar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (Shadam), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Childhood Friends, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Galra Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) was Raised by the Blade of Marmora, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Allura/Lance (Voltron), Minor kolivan/antok/thace, Mutual Pining, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Reunions, Wedding Guest AU, mentions of grief (Keith's dad), voltron doesn't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29142237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havanar/pseuds/Havanar
Summary: Childhood friends Shiro and Keith reunite at a wedding they're both sent to as diplomats, only to discover they are going to the same four (alien) weddings, four weeks in a row. To avoid set-ups, (and cultural missteps) they go together as "wedding buddies." But what starts as a rekindled friendship soon becomes deeper without either realising.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 77
Kudos: 133
Collections: Sheithmark 2021





	1. Allura & Lance's Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Created in collaboration with @leftishark_ who helped me with everything from outlining to beta-ing and I am just so thankful I could cry. Please check out [ their beautiful art here](https://twitter.com/leftishark_/status/1356445397405716482)
> 
> Also huge a thanks to @babvfan for beta-ing (and fixing some of my terrible lines!!)
> 
> (To be updated daily)

_ Allura Altea & Lance McClain _

_ Invite you to their wedding _

_ 1 . 1 . 3042 _

_ Dinner and dancing to follow  _

Takashi Shirogane doesn’t hate weddings. They place high on the list of events he has to attend as Ambassador of Earth, behind coronations and inaugurations. And at least they’re not hospital visits, those place bottom. But something about the string of invites on the schedule in front of him makes his stomach turn.

"Four weddings?" He asks, eyeing the dates on the padd Pidge has passed over to him. "In a month?" They feel like his first real sparring match. His partner had gotten four jabs in, one after the other, and all Shiro had been able to do was feel them break his nose. One by one. 

"Busy month." Pidge replies. Shiro rolls his eyes as his friend, who was also his mechanic. And his personal assistant. He should probably convince the Garrison to pay her more. Pidge goes well beyond her duties.

"Look, Shiro, you need to get out of your apartment." Pidge says, looking at Shiro over the rims of her round glasses. "You’re acting like a Victorian spinster who was jilted at the altar." 

Shiro winces at that one. He knows she’s right.

"And anyway, you know what they say. One wedding brings another, maybe you’ll meet someone." She adds, shit eating grin crossing her face.

"Oh my god." Shiro exhales.  _ I cannot be taking dating advice from Matt’s little sister. _ He thinks.  _ Matt can never find out. _ He promises himself. 

He brings the padd to his temple, closing his eyes. The glass is cool, but it doesn’t make him forget Pidge’s comment. He should get out and meet someone. 

"You might meet a pretty alien boy," Pidge continues. 

Shiro gives her a look over the top of his padd.

"Woah, don’t give me the death glare," she says, hands shooting up in a display of innocence, Shiro knows there’s nothing innocent about Pidge. "I’m just  _ saying _ ," she adds. "That maybe meeting someone would be good for you. You’ve been moping over Adam for too long."

"We were engaged." Shiro says quietly. The words feel acrid in his mouth. They turn his stomach again on the way out of his mouth, tying knots in his chest as they go. His mouth feels dry. 

_ Fuck. _

“Yeah, and you weren’t right for each other. Better to not get married than get divorced later, right?"

Shiro doesn’t respond. He knows Pidge is right. He knows he and Adam weren’t right for each other. If he’s honest, he’d known since before Kerberos. They’d argued like it was a hobby, even the night Adam had put the ring on Shiro’s finger. The night Shiro was offered Kerberos featured their most spectacular flight yet, Shiro should’ve known then that their relationship was already engulfed in a blaze. Kerberos had been the first joint mission with Altea. Shiro would be one of the youngest to pilot a mission, second only to his father. Adam hadn’t wanted him to go. He hadn’t understood.

"The first one is Allura and Lance’s wedding, at least you know them," Pidge says, trying to salvage the conversation.  _ It’s the least she can do. _ Shiro thinks glumly. 

"I like Allura," he mumbles. Finally pulling the tablet away from his forehead. Allura’s face floats to the forefront of his mind, her long silver hair pulled up in a bun at a treaty negotiation. She’d made him laugh afterwards, doing an impression of the stern-faced leader of the Blade of Marmora. Shiro had been at the top of her rider for every diplomatic trip to Earth since.

"And Lance?" Pidge asks, eyebrows raised. Shiro shrugs, leaning his elbows on the desk between them.

"Wasn’t he in your class at the Garrison?" he asks. 

Pidge wrinkles her nose. Shiro mirrors her and she laughs.

"Well, the invite is from him, so pretend you like him."

* * *

Shiro’s no stranger to the press, and he’s not surprised to see cameras flashing at him as he steps out of his Uber in Havana. He pulls his jacket a little tighter, despite the warmth of Cuba. 

He plasters on a smile, pretends he’s greeting a friend as he looks at the cameras. It’s a trick his father had taught him during the press tour for the Kerberos mission. He’d tried imagining Adam for his first photo shoot, but that had resulted in photos of Shiro glaring. Now he settles for an old friend, one he hasn’t seen in years.

The Plaza in which the Catedral de San Cristobal sits has been cordoned off for the wedding. There are iron barriers designating where the journalists can stand and police line the plaza, just in case. Shiro tries not to dwell on that. Instead he focuses on the journalists, recognising one of them.  _ Nadia… something _ . She’d been on the Kerberos press tour. 

"Shirogane!" She calls and Shiro gravitates towards her friendly smile. She’d written an article on the Kerberos mission, the best one in Shiro’s opinion. And his father’s. And his mother’s. Shiro still has the newspaper clipping, Matt had got it framed for him.  _ Son follows in Tsuyoshi Shirogane’s footsteps for Kerberos mission. _

"Are you a friend of the bride or the groom?" she asks, her own padd held between them to record Shiro’s answers.

"Well, the groom invited me. But I know them both," Shiro replies, falling naturally into the interview. This is why he likes Nadia, no small talk. 

"What do you think the wedding between the Princess of Altea and a boy from Cuba says about our intergalactic relations?" Nadia continues quickly. Shiro can see the bags hanging under her eyes, the way she’s shifting her weight from one foot to another. He can also see the other reporters jostling behind her, snapping photos of him and listening in. He leans closer to her padd, lowering his voice.

"I think they’re in love," he starts. Nadia raises her eyebrows and he knows he’s letting her down. "I think it’s great that we live in a universe where a boy from Cuba can marry the love of his life, even if she is an alien princess," he adds.

"What does your father, one of the first astronauts to travel to meet the coalition set up by King Alfor, say about this event?"

"Well, first he’d tell you that he just  _ drove the bus. _ " Shiro answers with a wink.

Nadia snorts. She’d fallen apart with laughter the first time his father had told her that.

"He’s happy for them, Dad always told me to make friends with aliens, not enemies."

Nadia’s smiling softly now. "That's great Shiro."

Shiro feels relieved. Maybe now she can take a break, get off her feet. 

"Any words for the couple?" Nadia adds.

"Only my best wishes," Shiro answers and Nadia pulls the padd away, switching off the recording function.

"Shirogane, we’d like a word!" another reporter calls, and soon more are joining in, calling out his last name, shouting questions at him like he’ll just scream answers back.

"Got everything you needed?" Shiro asks, trying to ignore the movement around them.

Nadia nods. "You’re a great interviewee, as ever."

"Shirogane, one minute?" a reporter to the left of Nadia asks. He has glowing blue marks resting on top of his cheekbones.  _ Altean. _ Shiro shakes his head before turning his eyes back to Nadia. 

"Only as good as the interviewer," he tells her.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Shirogane," she says, grinning. "Now, get inside before the rest of these parasites get to you," 

Shiro gives her a mock salute. She’s right. He hates the press. In the weeks after the Kerberos mission, they flocked to his apartment like vultures swarming a dying animal.

"Shirogane!" one of them calls, "Will you be reuniting with Keith Kogane at the wedding tonight?"

Shiro feels himself freeze at the name.

_ Go. _ Nadia mouths at him. Shiro doesn’t have to be told twice.

* * *

Later, when Shiro is asked about the wedding by his commanding officer, by reporters, by Matt, he’ll describe it as  _ nice. _ He’ll be mocked for his choice of words. Magazines will print glossy photographs of Allura and Lance outside the Catedral de San Cristobal, its white stone matching Allura’s dress and hair perfectly. The reporters will gush about the domed ceilings and floral arrangements nestled under the arches. They’ll print the vows said between Allura and Lance, annotated like a piece of poetry. Dresses that resemble Allura’s and jackets that resemble Lance’s will sell out. And Shiro will call it  _ nice. _

Shiro appreciates the Cathedral the moment he steps in, it’s beautiful, but the reporter’s words are still ringing in his ears.  _ Will you be reunited with Keith Kogane?  _

_ Will you be reunited with Keith Kogane?  _

_ Keith Kogane. _

Shiro takes a deep breath as he finds his seat, next to the President of Cuba. His eyes catch the placard of the unfilled seat to his right as he slides in.  _ Ambassador of Marmora, _ It reads. He doesn’t know either. He tries to centre himself, like he was taught after the accident.

The words find their way to the back of his head, buzzing low in his ears the way tinnitus had nestled there after the crash.

_ Will you be reunited with Keith Kogane?  _

His doctor had recommended music to mask the tinnitus, his therapist had recommended meditation to lessen the anxiety. Shiro can’t exactly play calming music and close his eyes right now to do box breathing, so he focuses on the soft murmur around him. The way it echos off the domed ceiling, bouncing from one side to the other. He can almost make out the small talk between King Alfor and Mrs McClain on the other side of the Cathedral. He lets it lull him into a sense of calm. He thinks they’re talking about the Altean ceremony at the end of the month. Shiro has an invite sitting inside his padd, the last of his month of weddings. 

A jostling next to him brings Shiro back to his row. A low voice with a heavy timbre mutters a soft "sorry," as body slides in next to his own, the edge of a purple tunic lands in Shiro’s lap.

"Am I late?" he mutters, radjusting his clothes so that his tunic is no longer on Shiro. Shiro’s eyes follow the newcomers' hands, taking in the dark purple of the Blade of Marmora. The long dark hair, tied into a braid. He finds purple eyes staring back at him when he reaches the face of the Ambassador of Marmora.

"Keith." The name falls from his lips in a breathless whisper before he can stop it.

Keith’s eyes widen a little, before softening into something Shiro recognises. 

"Shiro," he replies. "Should’ve guessed they’d sit us together." he mumbles, he turns away from Shiro and starts to dislodge the other part of his tunic, which he’s clearly sitting on.

_ Of course, _ Shiro thinks. He wants to smack himself in the face for not thinking of it sooner. He thinks back to Pidge, and her insistence that he might meet someone at these weddings.  _ She knew. _ He’s sure of it. Pidge and Keith had been in the same class at the Garrison. Her older brother, Matt, had been Shiro’s classmate as well as his Kerbros teammate. They’d both picked up the pieces when Keith had left Earth.

_ Of course _ the wedding planners would want a shot of Shiro and Keith, poster children for the coalition 15 years ago, side by side at the biggest event of the Altea-Earth coalition ever: the wedding of the Princess of Altea and a human.

Keith turns back to Shiro when he’s free of his tunic.

"Been a while, Shirogane," he says, eyes taking in Shiro. 

Shiro pulls himself up a little taller. Pushes his back a little straighter. Braces himself. He knows this dance with strangers. The way they start at his face, get tripped up at the scar across his nose. Find their way to the metal arm, the latest in Garrison tech (courtesy of Pidge). But Keith’s eyes take a different route. They start at his face, skimming down his Garrison greys, barely taking note of the arm before finding their way back to Shiro’s face.

"Y-yeah," Shiro mumbles as music starts to play and the doors behind them are pulled open.

* * *

Shiro keeps his gaze resolutely forward during the ceremony. He looks past Keith as Allura makes her way up the aisle. He does his best to ignore the intricate braid of Keith’s hair, longer than it ever was on Earth but looking just as soft as he remembers. 

He watches Allura and Lance make their vows. A photographer slides in next to Keith and Shiro has to concentrate harder, feeling the warmth of Keith’s leg pressed against his own with the squeeze. Shiro doesn’t really listen to Lance and Allura’s vows, his thoughts are rattling around his head too quickly for that. 

He hasn’t spoken to Keith in ten years, not since Keith and his mother left Earth. He’d tried to reach out a couple of times, but then he had met Adam. Then he had been accepted onto the Kerberos mission and life became about training, about being a good boyfriend, about preparing and leaving Earth. He hadn’t had time to reach out to Keith.

It’s not until Lance, just as over dramatic as Shiro remembers, gets down on one knee in front of Allura that Shiro remembers why he hadn’t wanted to come to these weddings in the first place. 

Somewhere to his right Keith whispers “You already proposed, idiot.”

Shiro tries to focus on Keith’s voice. Tries to ignore the memories of Adam, on his knees in front of Shiro, as Lance places the ring on Allura’s finger. To Shiro, the ring Adam had placed on his hand before Kerberos’ launch had felt like a tether, tying him back to Earth. When he got back it had just felt like an anchor, keeping him from floating away to better things. It must feel different to Allura, because she pulls Lance up by the forearms before wrapping him in a kiss.

The Cathedral bursts into human and alien cheers.

* * *

Later, Keith finds Shiro in front of the seating chart at the reception. It’s probably a nondescript hall any other time of the year, but for the reception it’s been transformed with glowing orbs casting a soft light across the guests faces. It softens the glowing marks on the cheeks of the Alteans, so that they almost look human. There are flowers lining the walls in waves of blue, purple and white, some of them Shiro doesn’t recognise. The seating chart stands at the entrance, spanning thirty tables with names in a range of alphabets. He’s found his own name on a table close to the edge of the hall. The name next to his is written in an alien alphabet he doesn’t know.

"So they did sit us together," keith says.

Shiro flinches slightly. Keith had always been quiet, but never silent in his approach.  _ Keith’s a Blade of Marmora now,  _ he reminds himself.  _ He probably practices sneaking up on people. _

If Keith notices he doesn’t say anything and Shiro keeps his eyes focused on the seating chart, checking the other names on his table. He recognises the names of the Prime Minister of Cuba, the Chairman of the Garrison and a few other dignitaries he’s met as part of his ambassador role.

"That’s me," Keith says, hand reaching in front of Shiro to point at the alien name next to his own.

_ Oh, _ Shiro thinks. He catches the way the material of Keith’s uniform tightens around his bicep as he pulls his arm away.  _ This is going to be so awkward. _

"That’s your name in Galran?" he asks instead. He’s sure his cheeks are turning red with the stupidity of his own question.

"Yeah," Keith replies nonchalantly, as if having learnt Galran is the most trivial thing in the universe. 

"Come on, let’s sit down. I don’t want to have to make awkward small talk with the Prime Minister of Cuba,” he adds.

Shiro lets out a small laugh.  _ Some things don't change. _ He thinks as he catches up with Keith. He remembers Keith as a teen, Shiro had thought he was rude the first time they met. Too self important to bother talking to Shiro. It hadn’t taken long for Shiro to realise that Keith just really hated small talk.

* * *

Keith and Shiro both end up having to make conversation with the rest of their table throughout the meal. Shiro learns that the the Cuban Prime Minister loves Altean Food Goo; he even takes Shiro’s leftovers. Keith gets dragged into a conversation with Admiral Sanda, Chief of the Garrison, about the possibilities of a Garrison-Marmora joint mission.

"Look, I’m just the ambassador," he hears Keith telling her at one point. "You’d do better reaching out to Kolivan." His tone is steady but Shiro can feel the way he’s tapping his foot anxiously against the table leg between them.

The meal turns into Cuban-Altean fusion somewhere around the fourth course. Shiro catches the grimace on Keith’s face every time a new course makes its way to their table.

"Who would have thought Cuban and Altean cuisine go together so well," the Altean Ambassador says. Shiro thinks her name is Romelle. 

"Have you had Cuban food before, Shirogane?" she asks, turning to Shiro who laughs.

"We had Altean Food Goo on Kerberos," he says. "But I’ve never had Cuban food before," he admits.

The Cuban Prime Minister offers to send Shiro his private chef. Romelle laughs and asks if she can have one too.

The rest of the conversation drifts easily for Shiro. He’s never had the opportunity to be shy. People used to stop his father in the streets, recognising him instantly as Tsuyoshi Shirogane. His father had always made sure to introduce Shiro. Then he’d started school, and all the other kids had known who his father was. Who he was. 

It isn’t until the meal is over that things get truly awkward. The music starts and the Prime Minister of Cuba and the Sanda take their leave, finding other guests to greet. Keith visibly deflates as soon as Sanda leaves, shoulders sinking, lips falling into a frown that Shiro recognises. 

_ If this was ten years ago...  _ he thinks. If he was still seventeen, Keith still fifteen, this is the point he’d nudge Keith. Say something stupid to make him laugh and relax.  _ Maybe if Keith hadn’t left. If you’d been a better friend and had tried harder to contact him…  _ Shiro swerves away from the dark thoughts.

He switches tactics. They don’t have to go back to being best friends, but they can be polite.

He’s just about to open his mouth to ask Keith something irrelevant about the Marmora base when he spots him. The photographer, camera swinging from his neck. He’s stopping every few steps to check table numbers.

"Here we go," Shiro mutters under his breath, Keith looks up instantly, his eyes following Shiro’s like a map.

"Photographer?" 

Shiro nods.

"What do you think it’ll be this time?” Keith asks as the photographer spots them, setting course for their table. Shiro knows he’s referring to the newspaper article. The one that watches Shiro every night from it’s spot on his fake mantelpiece, above his fake wood burner.  _ Children of the coalition _ it screams in bold lettering. Below is a black and white photograph of a thirteen year old Shiro, son of Tsuyoshi Shirogane, and a ten year old Keith, the first child born to an alien-human couple on Earth. Shiro knows now that it was propaganda, proof that human-alien relationships (and the coalition) could succeed. As a thirteen year old though, Shiro had thought he was super cool.

He spares a moment to wonder how they would describe him now. A retired pilot. A failed fiancé. Regular therapy attendee. 

"Bachelors of the coalition?" Shiro mumbles, a belated answer to Keith’s question.

He expects Keith to ignore it, to get distracted by the photographer who is now standing in front of them, waving his camera like it will ask the question. But Keith surprises him. He bursts into laughter, doubling over next to Shiro as the photographer looks on in confusion. Keith’s hand finds Shiro’s wrist, grabbing at it as laughter overtakes him. It’s infectious and suddenly Shiro is laughing too.

"Um, Mr Shirogane. Mr Kogane," the photographer asks nervously. 

Shiro pushes Keith back up into a sitting position, his eyes are glistening, slightly wet. A smile lights up his face. Shiro has to pull in a bigger breath.  _ He’s stunning. _

He tries to forget the thought as the photographer arranges them for the photo. They end up stood next to one another, close but not touching. Shiro pulls his face into a smile for the camera. Keith leans into him slightly, a soft grin on his face.

"Thank you." the photographer mumbles as he turns away, this time heading in the direction of Allura and Lance, slow dancing in the middle of the room.

"We should’ve sat the other way round, arms ‘round each other like the photo of us as kids." Keith says as he falls back into his chair. This time Shiro lets out a snort.

"Got that astronaut T-Shirt on under the Marmora uniform?" Shiro asks, catching Keith’s eye.

"Always," Keith grins, and they collapse into laughter again.

Shiro can’t help himself. He wants to hear Keith laugh. Making an awkward and shy ten year old Keith laugh had been the key to their friendship. As Keith had grown he’d also learnt how to make Shiro laugh just as hard. Sometimes all it would take was one mischievous glance from Keith and they’d both be lying on the floor, clutching their stomachs. 

Things had changed after Keith’s dad had died. Shiro’s not sure when he last heard Keith laugh.

The thought sobers him up, he has to wipe his eyes. He’s not sure if the tears are from laughter or relief that Keith can laugh like this again now. 

Keith resurfaces by himself, catching Shiro with a grin.

"I think we need a drink," he says, signalling to a waiter with his glass.

Shiro surveys their table as the waiter fills their glasses with bubbling gold champagne. He and Keith are the only ones left, the dishes have been cleared. Allura and Lance are still spinning around the dance floor. Her dress sweeping gracefully around them.

"Allura looks happy." Keith says, passing Shiro his glass.

"Yeah," Shiro replies, taking the glass and pressing it to his lips.

"Not sure about her husband though."

"Lance?" Shiro asks, looking at Keith over the top of his glass. "He’s alright." He says, shrugging. "He transferred into your class after you left," he adds.

Keith frowns in acknowledgement before moving on. "Well if King Alfor let him propose he must be okay."

"Do you know King Alfor?" Shiro asks. He’s never had the chance to meet the King of Altea, Allura’s father, but Allura always speaks of him highly.

Keith nods. "The Blades went through a phase of trying to set me and Allura up, so that we could form a stronger alliance with Altea."

Shiro takes another swig of his champagne, coughing as the bubbles hit the back of his throat too quickly. 

_ Is that why Keith’s so apprehensive about Lance? _

"Worst way to come out of your mom. Ever," Keith says, reaching around Shiro to clap him on the back twice. Shiro coughs again, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

When Keith pulls back his cheeks are tinged with red. Shiro glances at his drink, untouched. Keith doesn’t meet his eyes, takes a sip as Shiro’s head reels.  _ Keith is gay, _ he thinks, taking in Keith’s face, the way it’s shifted over the years into something angular and sharp.

A tiny part of Shiro, buried deep somewhere in his chest, had hated Keith for leaving. He knows it wasn’t Keith’s fault, that his mother, Krolia, had wanted them closer to her home after her husband's accident. He knows Keith had had no say in the matter. Who lets a fifteen year old decide where the family moves? But the thing in Shiro’s chest had gone cold when Keith had stopped responding to his messages. When his best friend had truly drifted somewhere unfindable in space.  _ Keith is here now,  _ He thinks. Catching the way Keith shifts.  _ And he’s gay _ , his mind adds, unhelpfully. Keith’s foot is tapping the leg of the table again, he looks uncomfortable. Ready to run.

"My fiancé left me,” Shiro blurts out, breaking their silence. "He dumped me, a year ago."

Keith’s eyes meet his again, at the  _ he _ , and he lets out a low "fuck." 

Shiro’s sure he can see relief in the way Keith’s shoulders fall. He takes another careful sip of his drink, hoping it hides the heat in his cheeks. 

There are other people on the dance floor now, Alteans and humans, Shiro recognises a few Olkari. The lights have dimmed, the music turned soft. If Shiro shifts, so that he’s facing Keith head on, it’s almost like they’re alone.

"Is that why you were so awkward in the Church?" Keith asks as Shiro rests his arm on the back of his chair, legs facing Keith. 

_ That was because of you, _ Shiro thinks. But that’s not the right thing to say. Not to your ex-best friend who’s just told you he’s gay.

He settles for: "It’s why I didn’t want to come." instead.

Keith nods.

"But I’m Ambassador of Earth now, it’s kind of in the job description," he adds, filling the silence. 

Keith nods again. "All I do is go to weddings these days," He says quietly.

And then it hits Shiro. His seat had been next to the Ambassador of Marmora. Keith had sat in that seat. Keith probably has a similar schedule to Shiro’s. Maybe they’ve even attended the same events already, missing each other.

"I wanted to be a blade,” Keith admits, almost whispering into the dim.

_ It would suit him. _ Shiro thinks. Keith had been wicked on the Dojang floor of his dad’s Taekwondo centre. Shiro would never even hear him coming. 

"Instead they made me a fucking ambassador." Keith seethes. 

"Too useful diplomatically?" Shiro guesses. He’d heard something similar after what was left of the Kerberos shuttle had finally been cleared from the crash site.

"First kid born to an alien from Earth." Keith answers, finishing off his glass in one swig and slamming it back on the table.

"Same," Shiro says, before waving to the waiter with his glass. 

* * *

The guests take on hushed tones as the attendees start to dwindle. Men in suits keep tapping people on the shoulder to tell them their cars are arriving. The waiters stop refilling Keith’s glass soon after. A tiny part of Shiro thinks they’re trying to save Keith a hangover.

"Galra don't get drunk on Earth alcohol," Keith corrects him.

They’ve spent most of the wedding swapping ambassador stories. Shiro offered the time he had mistaken the King of Arusia, a squat alien that looks a little like a frog, with King Alfor. Now Keith is in the middle of telling Shiro how desperate the Blades were to marry him off. He’s just got to the story of how he came out to his mom, the blades, Allura and her father all at the same time. Keith has gotten closer and closer to the table over the course of the story, leaning heavily on his elbows now. It reminds Shiro of long nights pouring over homework.  _ If Krolia were here she’d whack him over the head for bad posture, _ Shiro thinks.

"And I just yelled  _ Mom, I like boys! _ " Keith is saying, eyes stuck on the tablecloth in front of him, when Allura appears at their table.

"Oh not that story again, Keith," she says, and Keith shoots up in his chair, back straightening, eyes alert.

_ Definitely not drunk. _

"Allura!" he exclaims, pushing his chair back with a screech. Allura looks amused.

"Do calm down Keith," she says. "I thought it was very funny at the time." She adds before turning to Shiro.

"Shiro." She greets him warmly. 

"Princess." He returns. She looks radiant in her white dress, eyes beaming, smile wide.

"I do hope the two of you enjoyed the wedding," she says.

"It was beautiful." Shiro says.

"Congratulations, Allura." Keith gives her a small smile. Allura smiles back, her hair cascading down her shoulders like snow.

"Thank you," she says, she looks relaxed, happy. Shiro’s glad. "Will the two of you be attending Bi-Boh-Bi’s wedding next week?" she asks.

The name sounds familiar to Shiro. He doesn’t know what a Bi-Boh-Bi is, but he’s sure he saw the name on his schedule.

"I will be," Keith says, and Shiro feels something stutter in his chest.

"Please give him my regards," Allura says as Shiro glances at Keith.  _ It makes sense. _ He and Keith are both Ambassadors. They’ve probably already attended the same events without realising. "I’ll be on my honeymoon," Allura adds.

"Will do." Keith replies.

"Thanks Keith, I’ll catch you and Shiro later." Allura gives them a wink before moving on to the next table.

Shiro pulls his padd out of his coat pocket the moment Allura’s back is turned. It takes a couple of tries before he finds the calendar and pulls it to the main screen.  _ There it is. _

_ 10th January _

_ Bi-Boh-Bi’s wedding. _

His neck heats up, and he looks up to find Keith watching him, eyebrows raised in question.

"You going too?" Keith asks. Shiro drops his padd on the table in response, upside down so that Keith can read it. Keith leans over, squinting slightly at the small text, his braid falling over his shoulder.

"I have four weddings this month," Shiro confesses. "Four  _ alien  _ weddings!" HIs thoughts start to race before he can stop them. 

_ What is a Bi-Boh-Bi? _

_ What if there are weird alien traditions? _

_ What if I don’t understand anything they’re saying. _

_ What if I spend the rest of my life watching people get married instead of getting married?  _

His loneliness hadn’t quite hit him until he’d watched Lance put the ring on Allura’s finger. A year ago he’d been walking around with a ring on his own finger, linking to someone. Even if it had been the wrong someone.

Shiro peaks at Keith through his silver bangs. They almost make Keith look like he’s shrouded in starlight. Either that or Shiro is drunk and his eyes are blurry. Keith isn’t looking at him. Instead he’s pulled out a book, the size of his hand and made of paper. He’s flipping through the pages like he’s looking for something.

Shiro shakes his bangs out of his face, so he can see what’s written on the cover of the book.

_ 3040-42 diary _

He blinks when Keith turns the diary to face Shiro. It’s laid out like an old fashioned planner, the kind Shiro had used in elementary school, with an overview of the month ahead. Shiro spots the word wedding, then he spots three more events he recognises in Keith’s spindly handwriting. 

_ 1st January _

_ Allura’s Wedding _

_ 10th January _

_ Bi-Boh-Bi’s Wedding _

_ 17th January _

_ Kolivan & Antok & Thace’s Bonding Ceremony _

_ 30th January _

_ Allura’s Altean Ceremony _

They’re the same dates highlighted in red on his padd calendar. A million things fly through Shiro’s head at once. The fact that he has three more weddings to attend, that they will be  _ very _ alien to Shiro. That he’ll see Keith three more times this month. He’ll probably be seated next to Keith at the next wedding. Maybe he should ask Keith for his number, in a  _ we’ll be at the same events _ , nonchalant, kind of way. Not in an  _ I want your number _ kind of way.

That would be a logical thing to do. Instead, Shiro opens his mouth and the stupidest observation falls out.

"You still use a paper diary?"

Keith looks a little taken aback, then his cheeks start to redden. 

"It reminds me of Earth," he mumbles, pulling it, and his body, away from Shiro.

"Have you missed it?" Shiro can’t help but ask, hoping his words will pull Keith back.

Keith nods. "A little." He says, his tone is guarded. Shiro watches as he closes the diary, rests both gloved hands on top.

Shiro doesn’t know what to say.  _ Of course Keith misses Earth, _ his head tells him.  _ You’d miss Earth if you’d left at fifteen and never looked back. _ Shiro looks at the diary. The way the corners of some pages are folded over, dogeared already. He can’t imagine it, the only link to Earth, to home, being a diary and a dead father. Everything else about Keith is Galra now. His clothes, his hair style, his Galra tech communicator. His eyes have always been Galra, his jaw more like his mother’s than his father’s. 

Shiro catches Keith’s head as it jerks up. He turns following Keith’s gaze to find a tall Galran in a uniform that matches Keith’s. He’s wearing a traditional blade mask.  _ Keith’s ride. _

Keith puts the diary away, not making eye contact with Shiro as he stands up. And suddenly all Shiro can think about is how he can get Keith to stay, stay in his life somehow, keep him in orbit like a satellite. He reaches out, metal hand grasping Keith’s wrist lightly.

"Go with me," he says, all in one breath, catching Keith’s eyes on the way to his wrist, where Shiro’s prosthetic holds it.

Keith looks confused.  _ Use your words, Shirogane. _

"To the weddings," he clarifies. "I don’t know anything about alien weddings, I don’t even know what a Boh-Bi is," he continues, the words falling from his mouth like an unfortunate vomiting episode. 

"Bi-Boh-Bi." Keith corrects, smirk pulling at his lips.

"Yeah, that," Shiro says quickly, "You could be my guide, Obi-Wan, help me navigate, stop me from saying stupid things." He’s running out of breath now, his words getting ahead of him. But Keith is grinning, probably at the  _ Star Wars _ reference. Keith had loved watching those movies, even if Shiro had fallen asleep during every single one.  _ Fuck. Is Obi-Wan not the guiding one?  _

"The press will want us together anyway," Shiro adds, softly, catching his breath. 

"What do I get out of it?" Keith asks, he nods to the Galra standing at the entrance, eyes not meeting Shiro’s.

_ Fuck. _

_ What will Keith get from this?  _

They’re not exactly best friends anymore. 

"You said the Blades wanted you to marry right?" he says before he thinks. "Would they be interested in an alliance with Earth?"

He thinks he sees Keith blush, his cheeks turn a slight purple colour.

"Deal." Keith mumbles quickly. He twists his wrist so that he’s grasping Shiro’s in return in a Galra handshake.

Shiro looks at their hands, his prosthetic dwarfing Keith’s wrist. The way Keith’s own fingers can’t even meet each other around his wrist. Keith pulls his wrist up, grip surprisingly strong, pushing it down in a mock handshake.

Shiro finds his eyes, something inside his chest melts at the soft determination he sees reflected back at him.

It’s not until Keith has left, braid swinging behind him, Shiro’s number scrawled on his wrist, that Shiro realises what he’s done. 

That he’s convinced Keith to be his  _ fake date _ to three alien weddings.

* * *

The next morning Shiro adds a new newspaper clipping to his collection. 

_ Childhood Ambassadors Reunite, _ it reads, above the photo of him and Keith. 


	2. Bi-Boh-Bi and Mi-Moh-Mi's Wedding

_ Bi-Boh-Bi & Mi-Moh-Mi _

_ Bii Boh Boh Bii wedding _

_ 1 . 10 . 3042 _

_ Boh Bii Bi Bi Boh, bibi boh bii boh boh _

  
  


Keith squints at the  _ mission file _ Kolivan passed him at the start of their weekly family dinner. He doesn’t know why his uncle insists on calling his ambassador duties  _ missions _ , like they’re actually important. 

He’d spent most of the meal arguing with Kolivan about the lack of any real missions on his calendar. It had followed the same script as usual. Keith was too valuable as an ambassador. His status as first child born to a Galra-human couple and lack of much real field work experience, made him a liability. Sometimes Keith wishes he could be valued for something other than his parents’ relationship. 

Kolivan was difficult to argue against when Keith was sandwiched between his mother and Antok. Both fierce ambassador Keith advocates and Both taller than Keith’s measly five foot seven, and battle hardened.

He pulls the top sheet closer as he hears his mother and Kolivan, Antok and Thace discuss their upcoming mating ceremony, already planned to the minute details. Keith knows that the conversation will turn to him next, so instead he focuses on his invitation.  _ Bi-Boh-Bi and Mi-Moh-Mi. _ He’s never met Bi-Boh-Bi. But he has seen his movies. They’re like the alien versions of the action movies he’d watched with Shiro as a kid. Except the cars were spaceships, the female leads tall Altean women who could shapeshift, and the explosions minimal. Explosions don’t work in space as well as they do on Earth.

He scans the information below, helpfully compiled by Kolivan or Thace’s assistant, as always. 

_ Location: Boh-tel, Theta-Quadrant _

_ Dress Code: Black Tie _

_ Important Guests: Emperor Lotor, King Alfor & Queen Melanor, The King of Arusia _

_ Gifts: Traditionally in Biizoid culture a representation of the couple is gifted. This is seen as a symbol of good luck for their future together. The Blade has arranged a flower arrangement in Bi-Boh-Bi and Mi-Moh-Mi’s likeness.  _

_ A room has been reserved for you at the Bi-Boh-Bi Ice Starship Suites.  _

Keith stifled a groan. He hates Lotor and his sleazy smiles. He hates black tie too, an Earth fashion he could’ve happily left behind. He’s always thought suits were too constrictive, stiffer to move in than his formal Marmora uniform. The only silver lining is that Kolivan or Thace’s assistants will handle the stupid gift for him. He can’t even process the fact that Bi-Boh-Bi named a planet after himself right now.

"What about you Keith?" He hears Antok ask, depe voice booming across the table.

Keith’s head jerks up.

"What?" He asks, slowly putting the mission file down.

"When can we arrange your bonding ceremony?" Antok asks. His mask hiding his face, and any clues as to whether or not he’s joking. 

Keith decides he’s joking and levels him with a glare. If Keith hates talking about dating, then Antok must detest it, especially with all the buzz surrounding his mating ceremony. Keith still has a lot to learn about Galra culture, but he knows Antok hails from an incredibly private tribe, covering their faces when they reach puberty, only revealing them to their chosen mates. A lot more convenient than his own tribe’s tradition of cutting their hair.  _ Antok must be deflecting. _ He thinks as Kolivan leans in.

"Yes kit," Kolivan adds, staring Keith down from the other end of the table. "We promised we wouldn’t pressure you into a mating ceremony. But you are twenty-five deca-phoebs."

Keith feels his cheeks heat up slightly. He looks to Thace, his  _ favourite _ uncle for rescue.

"Are you bringing anyone to the next wedding?" Thace asks instead, turning from his position next to Keith to face him. His tone is gentle, but Keith doesn’t have time to appreciate it.

"Perhaps a human?" Antok asks. If there’s one Galra gene Keith wishes he could have inherited it would be the inability to blush. Ever since he moved to the Marmora base, at fifteen, his uncles had enjoyed watching his cheeks paint themselves red with embarrassment, something their own would never do. 

He wills his cheeks to cool as all eyes turn to him. The glowing orbs of Antok’s mask, Kolivan’s piercing gaze, matching Keith’s mothers. Keith has seen the news articles on Allura and Lance’s wedding. Most of them focus on Allura’s dress, the fairytale love story of an Earth cadet and the Princess of Altea. A few, smaller articles, however and typically featured in pages three to four in magazines and newspapers, have focused on Keith and Shiro, seated side by side.  _ Like good old times.  _ Keith thinks before he can stop himself.

"Yes, a human would be a good match." Kolivan agrees. Keith can read between the lines.  _ After your father died and your mother ran home, our alliance with Earth has weakened. _

Krolia stays silent next to Keith. Kolivan may be her brother, but he isn’t always tactful. It had taken Keith a long, long, time to warm up to him. He knows Kolivan is older than his mother, and Galra social norms dictate that you listen to the leader of your pack. He also knows that Kolivan didn’t approve of Krolia and Keith returning to Marmora, viewing it as running away. Keith can see the way his mother’s fingers clench around the tablecloth; it’s the same one they had on Earth. She used to pull it out on special occasions, birthdays and anniversaries. Keith knows It had taken deca-phoebs of tense family dinners over that tablecloth to heal her relationship with her brother. 

"Shiro." Keith blurts out. "I’m bringing Shiro to the weddings, okay?"

* * *

Keith gives one word answers for the rest of the evening, leaving his mother to fill Kolivan, Antok and Thace in on his friendship with Shiro. A close bond that evolved into study nights, movie days, sleepovers, even dinner parties with Shiro’s parents.

"Takashi is a nice boy." Krolia tells their guests. "He was a good role model for Keith. He used to help him with his homework too."

_ If only she knew. _ Keith thinks. There had been so many  _ study nights _ spent racing hoverbikes in the desert. 

Keith's clearest memories of Earth are of days at Shiro’s house. He’d tell his mom and dad that Shiro was going to help him with his homework, when in actuality Shiro would teach him how to jump his hoverbike off the tallest cliffe. They’d spend hours kicking up red dust with their bikes, racing each other dangerously fast. (Kolivan thinks he taught Keith everything he knows about piloting. Keith has never bothered to correct him.) On the rare occasions they did stay in they’d watch movies on Shiro’s tablet, homework laid out in front of them, just in case. 

"Keith used to follow him around like a baby duflax," Keith hears his mom laugh. 

_ Embarrassment is a better option than mom and Kolivan fighting two weeks before the bonding ceremony. _ Keith has to remind himself.

"I’m glad the two of you reunited," Krolia adds. Keith meets her eyes, cheeks burning.

She looks relaxed again, happy, beaming at him like he’s single-handedly formed an alliance with the strongest planet in the universe. He prefers her like this.

"Yeah," he agrees. 

* * *

Later that evening Keith picks up his communicator. He’d added Shiro as a contact on the trip back from Earth. He’d told himself it was something to do to pass the time. Antok had taken one look at the mountain of glasses in front of Keith and had refused to let him pilot, Keith was only slightly disappointed that Earth alcohol did nothing for him.

He opens the contact page. It’s just Shiro’s name and number, no photo. But something about it makes the communicator feel warm in his hands, like he has a rope tying him to Shiro. 

He takes in a deep breath, like he’s about to jump headfirst into freezing cold water, before opening a new chat.  _ The wedding is in two days,  _ he reasons. They’d made a deal at Allura and Lance’s wedding after all. Keith would help Shiro at the weddings, Shiro would pretend to be his date. 

Keith’s already told his Mom about Shiro. He should hold up his end of the deal. __

He turns his phone over and braces himself, like he would before a landing. 

_ We’re just colleagues.  _ He reminds himself

_ Two ambassadors going to the same weddings. _

_ I’m just checking in. _

Keith has only just finished convincing himself to message Shiro when he turns his phone over.

When the emptiness of the chat hits him like the first waves of cold cold water hitting like a punch to the stomach. 

He was half expecting their old messages to somehow be there. The ones between fifteen year old Keith and seventeen year old Shiro. There had been hundreds of messages, if Keith wanted to he would have been able to scroll through them for hours without reaching the end. They’d messaged about everything. Their days. Intergalactic news. Dog memes. 

Keith remembers squinting at his screen in the middle of the night. The brightness had hurt his eyes, but he’d done it anyway, because Shiro had messaged him.

He’d tried to type out his feelings a few times too. He’d always deleted them immediately, as if he could delete them from his heart too. 

He shuts his eyes for a moment. He knows the old messages are still there, on his Earth phone, in the back of a drawer somewhere. He breathes in slowly, counting to eight, just like he had done before his trials, before typing.

Keith:  **_Hey Shiro, it’s Keith. Just checking in before the wedding on Saturday._ **

He turns off the screen the moment the message sends, falling onto his bed, trying not to remember the way Shiro had looked at the reception. The way he’d stood tall in his uniform, full of confidence. His smile. Warm and bright for Keith by the end of the evening. Like they were kids again. 

His communicator vibrates under him. 

Keith jumps, fumbling with the communicator.

Shiro:  **_Keith! All good here I think, how are you?_ **

Keith smirks, just a tiny bit.  _ Shiro was always a quick texter. _

Keith:  **_Good, just had an awkward dinner with Mom, Kolivan, Thace & Antok._ **

Shiro:  **_Your Mom, the leader of the Blade of Marmora AND his two fiances? That sounds like a lot._ ** **😅**

Keith:  **_Yeah. I told them our story, seemed like the only way to stop the Blade from dividing into factions… sorry._ **

Shiro:  **_Haha. no worries, that was part of the deal._ **

Keith stares at the screen. He hadn’t really expected to take Shiro up on that part of the deal. He also hadn’t expected his childhood crush to say  _ no worries _ to the fact that the universe’s biggest spy organization thought they were dating. 

He sits, waiting for another message. Shiro used to do that sometimes. Instead of writing out one big long message he’d send lots of one liners, it drove his dad nuts. Keith still keeps his communicator on vibrate now because of it.

But no message comes.

Keith flicks away his message inbox, navigating instead to a news site. He clicks on an article about a new terror group, empire loyalists by the looks of it. There are multiple stories about hijacked ships, a hostage situation on Balmera. The Blade are apparently working on it. Keith tries not to let it get to him, that he could be out there fighting for a better universe. But instead Kolivan has him going to weddings.

He flicks back to Shiro’s chat.

Keith:  **_Do you have your gift ready?_ **

The three dots by Shiro’s name appear immediately. 

Shiro:  **_Gifts? No one told me about gifts._ **

Keith sighs. Shiro was right when he’d said he didn’t know anything about alien weddings. Apparently the Garrison didn’t know anything either. 

Keith:  **_Biizoid’s, that’s the name of Bi-Boh-Bi’s species, give each other gifts to represent the couple at their weddings._ **

He sends the message and then reaches for the mission file, which he’d also thrown on his bed, turning to the page titled, Gifts and Customs. He takes a photo of it and sends it to Shiro.

Keith skim reads the page while waiting for Shiro to reply. 

_ In recent years the Biizoid’s have become infamous for their media production. Being famous is part of Biizoid culture. Giving a small representation of the couple, a figurine, a portrait, a shirt emblazoned with their faces is seen as good luck for the future,  _ the file reads. 

_ Okay,  _ Keith thinks. 

He can’t really judge them, not when his own parent’s Earth wedding had involved throwing a bunch of flowers at other people, or when Kolivan’s mating ceremony will involve Thace and Antok cutting his hair.

It becomes apparent, as he flicks through the rest of the file, that Thace must have put this together. There’s an entire page on Emperor Lotor, even though Keith’s already met him enough times to hate him. Photos of Boh-tel, a list of movies Bi-Boh-Bi has starred in that Keith recognises more than he feels is socially acceptable. 

He grabs his phone the minute it vibrates, like it’s something precious.

Shiro:  **_Thanks Keith. The Garrison didn’t even tell me what a Biizoid was!_ **

Keith holds back a damning message. _ What do they think they’re doing? Sending Shiro in blind? _ His phone buzzes again before he can really get angry.

Shiro:  **_So a gift with Bi-Boh-Bi and… Mi-Moh-Mi’s faces on…_ **

Shiro:  **_I don’t even know what they look like._ ** **_😣_ **

Keith holds back a laugh. Takashi Shirogane had always been the kind of student who did his homework the day it was assigned. Keith can almost imagine him panicking, like the time Matt had hidden his paper right before class. The third text comes in just as Keith finds a photo of Bi-Boh-Bi and Mi-Moh-Mi on his communicator to send to Shiro. 

Shiro:  **_How am I going to get their faces printed on something before Saturday!!_ **

Keith sends the photo before replying. 

Keith:  **_The Blade went for flowers. Can’t the Garrison arrange something?_ **

Shiro: **_They’ll have to._** **😭**

* * *

Keith spends the rest of the night sharing his mission file with Shiro. He’s sure it’s against Blade protocol, but it’s  _ Shiro. _

He falls asleep just as a last message from Shiro flashes up on his phone, his heart feels warm.

Shiro:  **Thanks Keith.** **😄** **See you Saturday.**

* * *

Keith arranges to land on Boh-tel at roughly the same time as Shiro. He isn’t sure it’s this decision that has annoyed Antok or if it’s the fact that Antok’s brand new fighter is, once again, functioning as Keith’s taxi.

"So, you and Shirogane." Antok says as soon as their flightpath to Boh-tel is stable. It comes out as more of a growl. Keith adds  _ annoyed that Keith has a boyfriend _ to his imaginary list of things that have annoyed Antok.

"Me and Shiro," he grimaces and Anotk snorts.

Keith fiddles with his tie nervously. Red, matching his jacket. He feels silly, in a suit picked out by his mom. She’d always said red suits him. But he feels out of place in it, it’s too bright. Too easy to spot, unlike the inconspicuous purple of his Blade uniform. He’s waiting for Antok to continue. Either to give him the same dreadful speech about bonding that his mom had given him, or to tease him. He’s not sure which would be worse. Antok, along with Thace and Kolivan, has been part of his life since he was fifteen. The three of them had welcomed Keith and his mom into their pack the minute they returned to Marmora. They’d stepped into the role of father easily, Kolivan as his teacher. Thace had offered care, stopping by to check in on Keith and his mom. Antok was the fun one, and the most likely to tease.

He lets out a small sigh when Antok opens a panel on the flightdeck and begins to key something in.  _ Probably for his next mission.  _ Keith thinks grudgingly. But instead of sulking at the thought of Antok on a mission without him he turns his thoughts to Shiro. 

He hadn’t imagined, when he’d received the invitation to Allura and Lance’s wedding, that he’d reunite with Shiro. The guilt in the pit of his stomach shuffles at the thought, but it’s a gentle guilt now. Like pebbles, light enough to be kicked up every now and again. Dislodged. In his first few years with Marmora it had felt like the heaviest weight in the Marmora training gym, the one he’s only ever seen Antok lift. It had forced him down. Everything had. Keith hadn’t been able to pick up his phone to message Shiro after he got to the Marmora base. Hadn’t been able to scroll past the last messages from his father without his eyes burning. He’d punched a wall instead, so that he had something to actually cry about. In the end his mom had bought him a communicator, the latest in Galra tech. His Earth phone still sits at the bottom of his desk drawer. Odd. He thought he’d left the guilt there, too, along with it.

Because Keith had  _ wanted _ to see Shiro. He wanted to see Shiro more than anything, wanted to tell him about Marmora. About his uncles, his blade trials. But the thought of turning on his Earth phone, of finding Shiro’s number, passing his father’s last messages, had made him feel sick. That had buried the weight of the guilt pretty well. 

* * *

Keith watches as Antok moves the controls for landing. His stomach drops as the fighter angles downwards. Keith tells himself it’s just the fighter hitting the atmosphere.  _ Nothing to do with seeing Shiro. _

The minute the wheels hit the runway a new string of thoughts find their way into Keith’s head. He’s on the same planet as Shiro for the second time in just over a week. He’s going to  _ see  _ Shiro. Shiro with his big smile that reminds Keith of a puppy.  _ The person he’d spent his teenage years fantasizing about.  _ Keith tries to ignore that thought. Suddenly the tie of his tuxedo feels a little too tight, the harness too restrictive over his chest.

Keith unclips his harness before the fighter stops moving. Antok’s hand reaches for his shoulder, holding him down as the brakes battle with the landing momentum.

"Couple more seconds, kit," he says as the fighter slows to a stop. The minute it does Keith is out of his seat, grabbing his bag and releasing the lock on the exit.

"I’ll pick you up at 0900 hours!" Antok shouts over his shoulder.

"Thanks!" Keith calls back as the door slides open.

The air on Boh-tel is warm. It’s nice. Reminds Keith of Texas, although it isn’t the same brand of suffocating heat he remembers from his childhood. He watches the fighter turn, taking off as smoothly as it landed, before turning his eyes to the queue of guests waiting to leave the station. It doesn’t take him long to spot Shiro. A shock of white hair stands out from the arrivals gate, where a tall crocodile-like alien is checking invitations. Shiro matches the alien in height easily. His prosthetic glinting from beneath his suit in the sunlight like the luxite of Keith’s blade.

Keith wants to run to him. 

He stamps the feeling down and starts walking.

Except not all the way.

"Shiro!" he calls out when he’s close enough, and Shiro turns to face him, smile illuminating his face. It’s infectious and Keith can’t help smiling back.  _ Some things never change _ , he thinks. 

"Keith," Shiro greets him. "Good to see you."

Keith nods. There are a million things that want to fall from his lips.  _ It’s great to see you Shiro. I’ve missed you. You look amazing.  _

"Good flight?" He asks instead as he ducks under the velvety barrier separating him and Shiro, waving an apology to the Arusians waiting behind Shiro. 

Shiro pouts.

"They wouldn’t let me fly myself."

Keith knows why. He’d read the news reports after Kerberos, how the hydraulics on the Hercules, Shiro’s ship, had failed on Shiro’s re-entry to Earth. Shiro had landed an un-landable ship, losing his arm but no crew in the process. Since then his career had changed trajectory.

_ A hero pilot who isn’t allowed to fly himself,  _ Keith thinks. But he lets it pass. Shiro doesn’t need Keith’s anger on top of everything else he must feel. Keith wasn’t there anyway. 

_ Shiro also doesn’t need to hear your feelings about it two years later,  _ he tells himself.

"Me neither," Keith says, matching Shiro’s easy going pout. "Antok took one look at the empty glasses on our table at Allura’s and now he insists on flying me to every wedding."

Shiro laughs as the crocodile-like alien waves a claw for their invites.

"Well he won't have to fly you to the next one. It’s on the Marmora base right?"

"Yeah." Keith says. "I can stumble back to my quarters from there I think.”

Shiro looks like he’s about to say something but the crocodile-security-guard-alien hands him back their invites.

"The ceremony will be held beyond the next door. There’s a red carpet first, press from all over the galaxy," he says, his words hiss around his impressively large teeth. "Pose for photos, then walk. Interviews optional." 

"Thanks" Shiro mutters as the door is opened for them to reveal a deep red carpet, encrusted with diamonds to look like the night sky.

Cameras flash at Keith immediately as soon as they step through the door, hitting him with a sudden urge to walk back out. Call Antok and get out of here. 

Shiro, as if sensing Keith’s displeasure, places his hand on the small of his back. Keith stands up straighter, finding the comfort of the prosthetic hand against the back of his jacket.

"Just give them that signature Keith look." Shiro murmurs, just low enough for Keith to hear. Keith gives a little laugh, holding back as much as he can. The cameras start clicking more fiercely as the carpet in front of them twinkles.

* * *

They skip the interviews, dodging alien celebrities and photographers alike. Shiro waves the invites to the next crocodile security guard who points them towards a building with an obviously fake exterior made to look like an Earth church. Once inside they’re pointed to a corner of the room, at the back. 

They find their seats easily, church pews but with plush velvet cushioning. Keith slides in first, scooching down to the end so no one except Shiro can sit next to him. He catches a glimpse of Lotor up ahead, the last thing he wants is to deal with  _ that  _ awkward conversation. 

Shiro sits down next to him, letting out a breath he seems to have been holding since the red carpet.  _ At least I’m not half sitting on Shiro this time. _ Keith thinks. He hadn’t meant to be one of the last to arrive to Allura’s wedding. He’d just hoped that not being early would save him from the small talk.

The room they’re in is large, with pale white curtains. There must be fifteen rows in front of theirs, filled with aliens more important than the son of a human and a Galra and a pilot from Earth. Keith leans back. He prefers this, less pressure. More anonymity. 

"Keith." Shiro says, just as Keith thinks he’s caught the eye of Axca, one of Lotor’s bodyguards. He looks away quickly, leaning his head into Shiro’s, like they used to do when Shiro had wanted to tell him something he didn’t want their parents to overhear.

"Why does this look so much like an Earth wedding?" He asks, pointing at the aisle, ready for Mi-Moh-Mi, the altar with a Biizoid standing in front of it. There’s a white collar around his face. 

"I don"t think he’s really a priest," Keith says, before remembering something he read in his mission file last night.

"Bi-Boh-Bi is promoting a new movie," he says quickly. "A remake of an Earth movie?  _ The Space Hangover?" _

Shiro snorts. "Why does he need to use his wedding to promote it?" He asks. 

"Bi-Boh-Bi is kind of  _ the _ space celebrity at the moment," Keith whispers back, watching the way Shiro’s eyes rise up his forehead. 

"He bought this whole planet after a sold out stage show," Keith continues. He isn’t sure what happened in the show, all he knows is it was on ice. Regris had threatened to buy him tickets for his birthday. 

"Renamed it after himself, Boh-tel, like Bi- _ Boh _ -Bi."

Shiro winces. Keith ignores it. Shiro’s lucky to live on a planet that has Bi-Boh-Bi alternatives.

"He turned it into the most expensive resort in the universe. The cheapest rooms cost well over 100,000 GAC a night." He can’t explain the surprise in Shiro’s face. He doesn’t know how Bi-Boh-Bi does it. Maybe it’s because idiots like Keith and Regris keep going to see his dumb movies when they’re bored.

When he looks back at Shiro his eyes are doing that crinkly thing at the corners. Keith recognizes that look. He’s either about to burst into laughter, or about to tase Keith. Usually both.

"You’re a big fan," he says, voice level, biting his bottom lip to hold back a smirk.

Keith wishes he hadn’t let his mother pull his hair into a braid. If he’d left it loose, he’d be able to hide behind it. 

"I’m not," he denies, a little too forcefully.

Shiro’s laughter has to be stifled a minute later, when the organ starts to play. 

* * *

The wedding is about as dramatic as one of Bi-Boh-Bi’s movies. Keith’s seen enough to know but he keeps the thought to himself. Watching Bi-Boh-Bi’s movies and stealing his mom’s Galran alcohol had been his and Regris’ preferred method of switching off after training. They still do it sometimes after Regris completes a particularly difficult mission.

Mi-Moh-Mi prances down the aisle in a dress three times the size of her. Bi-Boh-Bi performs a marathon monologue of a vow, or at least Keith thinks it’s a vow. He can’t understand it.

Half way through the wedding the pile of gifts is revealed, including a flower arrangement in the shape of Bi-Boh-Bi and Mi-Moh-Mi’s heads from the Blades, Shiro leans over and whispers. 

"Do you remember Olive Garden?"

The Biizoid priest is still wittering on as Bi-Boh-BI and Mi-Moh-Mi dive into the mountain of gifts. BI-Boh-Bi has pulled out a shirt with their faces printed on it.

"Of course," Keith says as Bi-Boh-Bi pulls the shirt over his the part of his body that forms his head. Keith’s sure he recognizes the picture on the front. The shirt hangs off his body, clearly not made with Bi-Boh-Bi in mind.

"Don’t you think they look like Olive Garden breadsticks?" Shiro asks.

Keith grins, he can feel the laughter coming in, like a wave rolling in from the pit of his stomach, up to his chest. His stomach convulses with the first chuckle, and he has to turn the laugh into a slight coughing fit instead.

The priest is still going as Keith’s cough subsides. He looks up at Shiro through his bangs, hand still pressed to his mouth, hiding the ghost of his smile. Shiro is giving him that slightly tilted grin he used to get before pulling a prank, or lying to his dad about helping Keith with his homework.

Bi-Boh-Bi is still wearing the shirt, now accompanied by a pair of sunglasses in the shape of his and Mi-Moh-Mi’s heads. They’re comically big on Bi-Boh-Bi. Keith keeps his gaze locked on Bi-Boh-Bi as he and Mi-Moh-Mi return to the Biizoid priest.

"What did you get Bi-Boh-Bi in the end?" Keith asks.

There’s a beat of silence between them as the priest starts talking again.

"That shirt," Shiro finally says.

Keith feels the laugh bubbling up in his stomach again, he hasn’t felt this light in years. He has to press his lips together to stop the laughter from escaping.

* * *

Keith manages to hold himself together for the rest of the ceremony. The first method he uses is to not look at Shiro.  _ At all. _ He knows from his time on Earth that one catch of Shiro’s steel-grey eyes would be enough for them both to erupt into laughter. The second method involves the self-control techniques Antok taught him during his Blade training. Antok had probably envisioned Keith using breathing techniques during a tense mission, maybe a hostage situation or something, not to stop himself from laughing at a wedding. On the other hand, he doesn’t think Kolivan would be happy if he got a reputation for giggling at weddings.

The wedding ends with Bi-Boh-Bi dipping Mi-Moh-Mi and leaning in for an agonizingly long kiss. So long that Keith has to shift his gaze as the kiss gets more pornographic. And louder. 

_ Kissing shouldn’t be loud, _ Keith thinks. Not that he’d know. He wonders if Shiro looks as uncomfortable as he himself feels. As uncomfortable as he’d looked when Keith had sat down next to him at Allura’s wedding. He tries to ignore that thought, slipping his communicator out of his pocket instead. He flicks it on to see a message from Kolivan, written in Galran. 

_ MISSION ALERT - Captain  _

_ 1 day until departure.  _

_ Supply drop off. _

His heart jumps. He grips his communicator tighter, taking in a tiny breath. A mission. Finally. He wants to punch the air. It’s almost enough to distract him from the almost-mating Biizoids in front of him, but one final smack of lips pulls him back to his current reality. The one where he’s just an ambassador for the Blades. He acknowledges the message quickly, sending his thanks to Kolivan just as Bi-Boh-Bi pulls his face away from Mi-Moh-Mi with one last disgusting squelch. He sneaks a glance at Shiro, who seems very interested in his prosthesis.

They stand up with the rest of the aliens to clap as the Biizoid priest announces the couple as married. 

* * *

"The next wedding won’t be like this, will it?" Shiro asks as a Bi-Boh-Bi knocks over a pyramid of glasses, each filled with nunvill, to get to Mi-Moh-Mi. He’s still wearing the Earth shirt and the glasses. The other Biizoid’s cheer. 

Keith lets out a laugh. They’d each been handed their own glass of nunvill as they’d entered the reception, a press free zone according to the security guards. Keith can see why.

"Kolivan, Antok and Thace?" He asks, meeting Shiro’s eyes. He has to look up to do it, Shiro has always been taller than him. As a kid Keith had fantasized about overtaking him. As a teenager he’d expected to shoot up, to match his uncles in height, or at least his mother. Now though, looking up at Shiro, he’s not sure he minds his height so much. 

"No way," he finally answers, thinking of Kolivan’s stern face. "They’re the most serious guys you’ll ever meet."

"Good." Shiro says, lifting his glass to his lips, Keith’s arm shoots out before he really realises what he’s doing, pulling the glass out of Shiro’s hands.

"Don’t drink that." He says, putting the glass down next to his own. "Tastes like hotdog water," he adds in a reply to the confusion on Shiro’s face.

"Well now I have to try it," Shiro says, grabbing the glass and taking a swig.

The disgust on his face is instantaneous as he swallows.

"Told you so." Keith smirks.

"Allura likes it!" Shiro exclaims. "She told me it was her favourite drink." He returns the glass to the table, pushing it away, and Keith’s glass further away from both of them.

"Allura also chose to marry Lance," Keith replies and Shiro elbows him.

Before Keith can explain himself a group of Biizoids pick up Bi-Boh-Bi and begin throwing him in the air. Keith watches as Bi-Boh-Bi’s face contorts, his head turning slightly green. 

"Bi-Boh-Bi looks like he’s about to vomit," he says instead. He feels Shiro nod next to him more than he sees it. 

"Wanna duck out before he does?" Shiro finally asks, eyes fixated on Bi-Boh-Bi.

Keith feels something sink in his stomach.

"Where?" he asks. Because he doesn’t want to watch any more Biizoid vomit. But he also doesn’t want to cut short his time with Shiro, not when he has all night to spend with him if he can.

"There’s a bar at the hotel," Shiro says, tilting his head to look at Keith, like he’d heard him thinking.

"Yes,” Keith says, a little too quickly. "Let’s go." 

* * *

To Keith’s relief the  _ Bi-Boh-Bi Ice Starship Suites _ are not actually made out of ice. The cool air washes over him as they step inside. Shiro waves their invitations again and they’re each given a set of keys. Keith isn’t sure when Shiro started holding on to his invitations, but he doesn’t mind.

They ignore the elevator up to the rooms and instead head for the bar. Inside is dark, cooler than the rest of the building. Keith spots a few aliens sitting at the bar, which is painted to look like ice. 

_ Wedding guests with the same idea. _

_ Not a threat, _ his instincts tell him.

Shiro takes a step ahead of him, striking up a conversation with the bartender, a Biizoid in a tux, just like the ones Keith and Shiro are wearing. Keith tries to ignore the way the silver of the bar matches Shiro’s hair, arm, his eyes.

"What do you want Keith?" Shiro asks, turning back to him. 

Keith tries to ignore the way he looks, leaning against the bar, suit a little too tight around the shoulders. He fits in perfectly. 

"Vronko." A look of confusion flashes across Shiro’s face.

"Galra alcohol," he clarifies. 

"Right. Uh, do you have Earth beer?" Shiro asks the waiter who immediately pulls out two champagne flutes.

"Bi-Boh-Bi had Earth beer imported to promote his movie The Space Hangover." The Biizoid tells them. 

"Of course." Shiro says, politely.

"Want your drinks on tap?" The waiter asks and Shiro agrees.

Keith catches Shiro’s eye. "I told you  _ The Space Hangover _ was a hit," he says. 

Shiro chuckles as he takes their drinks. 

* * *

The walls opposite the bar are made of glass, offering panoramic views of the Boh-tel skyline. Keith guides Shiro away from them, towards solid, opaque walls with booths. He slides in, recognising the velvet from the pews in the fake church. Shiro does the same after putting their drinks down.

Keith takes his own glass as Shiro makes himself comfortable. He tries not to snort as Shiro inspects his beer. It’s been poured into a champagne flute like Keith’s own drink. He watches from over the rim as Shiro shakes his head before pulling off the jacket of his suit, revealing a pristine white shirt, the right sleeve cut just above his prosthetic. It fits tightly over his muscles and Keith has to pull his eyes away. He watches the way Shiro folds his jacket neatly beside him. Averting his gaze as Shiro picks up his beer.

He takes a sip of his vronko. The alcohol hits the back of his throat like a fire.

"So…" Shiro starts, "that was awkward."

"Yeah," he agrees. "I’m never going to another Biizoid wedding again."

Shiro laughs and Keith, unsure of himself, takes another swig of his drink.

It’s awkward.  _ He’s awkward. _ It had been like this the first time they met too. Pulled together for a Garrison sponsored photoshoot. Keith, ten, son of an alien. Shiro, thirteen, a new cadet. A prodigy. Son of an astronaut. Keith had turned up in his favourite T-shirt, orange with a cartoon astronaut, clashing horribly with Shiro’s Garrison uniform. He hadn’t known what to say to Shiro then either. He had been so much older, his hair already cut close to his ears in what would become his signature undercut. 

Keith holds the glass up to his mouth like a shield, trying to work out how they got here. How a thirteen year old Shiro had decided that he wanted to be  _ Keith’s friend. _ How he’d let everything fall away when he left Earth, like one of those old space shuttles that discarded its boosters as it left the atmosphere.

The guilt shuffles in Keith’s stomach. He should offer an apology, an explanation for those years of no contact.

He opens his mouth at the same time as Shiro.

"So, what’s the best thing about being an ambassador?" Shiro asks. And the moment for an apology is gone. Shiro’s eyes are focused on his beer, which he’s barely had a sip of. Keith surrenders his own glass, half empty. He’s not sure how to answer the question. Or where it had come from. Shiro must catch on from his silence.

"I mean, I’ve only been an ambassador for a few months. You’ve been ambassador of Marmora for a while right?" Shiro explains himself. Speaking too quickly.  _ Like he does when he’s nervous _ , Keith remembers.

Shiro’s right. Keith has been Ambassador of Marmora for a few years now. He’d completed his training at twenty-one. Spent a year on back burner missions, supply runs, identical to the one he’ll lead in a day's time. He’d been a security a few times, a messenger once. King Alfor had recognized him on a security mission, son of a Galra and a human. After that Kolivan had decided to give him the ambassador role.

Unsure how to put it into words for Shiro, he settles with a useless, "Yeah," before picking his glass back up and finishing the silver liquid inside. 

"I guess all the traveling is cool," he finally answers, leaning over to place the glass in the tube at the end of the table, he feels Shiro’s eyes following him as he closes the door. It only takes a second for the glass to refill with vronko. Keith pulls it out and puts it back in front of him.

"You don’t get much time to explore on the average blade mission," he adds.

Shiro laughs in agreement. "It was the same as a pilot. I was always stuck in the cockpit, checking the weather or for solar flares." 

Keith grins, lifting his glass to his lips to hide it.  _ Double checking everything sounds like Shiro.  _

"Okay, what’s the worst thing then?" Shiro continues. Keith doesn’t need to think about this one. He just raises his eyebrows at Shiro who bursts into laughter.

"Guess I’ve already seen it," Shiro laughs and Keith let’s himself sink back into the seat a little. He can do this. He can hold a conversation with Shiro without fucking things up more than they already are. He lets go of the glass to undo his tie, which feels too tight all of a sudden.

"I dunno," he says, tucking his tie into his jacket pocket. "I miss going on real missions. I always wanted to be a Blade and I worked really hard to complete my training, awaken my blade. And they just send me to weddings and peace treaty signings." 

Keith can feel his cheeks burning. He’s not sure if it’s because Shiro is the first person he’s told this to or if it’s because he suddenly feels like he’s wearing a hundred layers. His drink is cool. He takes another sip. 

"I’m sure Kolivan sends you because he trusts you," Shiro says and Keith shakes his head. 

"If he trusted me he wouldn’t send Antok to pick me up like a babysitter."

"Well you did drink a lot at Allura and Lance’s wedding," Shiro replies, voice even. Keith takes another sip to spite the comment.

_ That was because I was anxious about sitting next to you, _ he wants to explain, "Human alcohol doesn’t affect me." He says instead.

Steely eyes meet his own and Shiro mouths  _ seven glasses _ at him.

He downs the rest of his vronko in response slamming it into the tube for a refill.

He feels a bit of relief when he hears a soft chuckle from Shiro and when he turns back to him as his glass refills, Shiro just shrugs. 

"Glad you’re still stubborn," he says.

"Always," Keith mutters as the tube pops open and he’s reunited with his drink. 

"Okay. My turn," he says, feeling the familiar confidence of the vronko running through his veins. 

"What’s the best thing about becoming a pilot?" He asks.

Shiro finishes his beer before answering, placing it carefully inside the tube and watching as it refills. 

"I liked knowing that I could go anywhere, at any time. It could be on Earth or it could be somewhere in space. And I wouldn’t need anyone’s help to get there. I’d just need me," Shiro finally answers, grabbing his new drink.

“‘Cept you’d need a ship," Keith cuts in. His eyes had settled on Shiro’s right peck sometime during his speech, the one about going anywhere at any time. His shirt is just tight enough to tell Keith he works out regularly.

"Well, yeah. But I could always borrow one from the Garrison."

"Smart," Keith says, his eyes traveling now to Shiro’s bicep. His arm. His prosthesis. 

“Fuck,” he thinks. Shiro’s eyes widen.  _ No, wait. You said that one aloud. _ His vronko riddled brain tells him as his eyes widen. 

"Shit," Keith continues, he can feel his cheeks burning, the exact shade of red that would have Antok teasing him mercilessly. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up…" He gestures uselessly to Shiro’s right arm. The one that shines in the cool light of the bar. 

Shiro doesn’t respond. Keith wants to slam his head into the table. He seriously contemplates it for a moment. __

_ Slam your head into the table hard enough.  _

_ Knock yourself out.  _

_ Shiro has to carry you to your room.  _

_ Or call Antok. Who will never let you forget this.  _

He must look like he’s about to act on his thoughts because Shiro speaks quickly, and softly.

"It’s okay Keith." He says. "I’ve had a whole year to process it," he adds, putting his prosthetic arm on the table in front of them. 

"What do you think?" He asks, pointing his chin at his arm. "Remember Matt? I think his sister Katie was in your year at school."

Keith nods. He remembers Katie, or Pidge as she’d liked to be called. And Matt. He’d been on the Kerberos mission. Shiro had saved his life.

"He and his little sister made this," Shiro says.

Keith peers down at Shiro’s forearm. He’d thought nothing of it when he’d shaken his hand at Allura’s wedding. It had felt cool to the touch, hard. 

"It looks strong," he says. It’s not what he wants to say. He wants to say that it suits Shiro. That the silver makes the white forelock that had appeared after the crash look like starlight. He wants to tell Shiro it had felt strong in his grasp when they’d shaken hands, that he’d like to feel the cool of it. On his face, maybe it would force away the redness in his cheeks. He’d take it in his hand again too. Or on his chest. Even his ankle.

"Thanks." Shiro says, pulling it back before Keith can shove his burning face into Shiro’s palm. 

Keith pulls back. He hadn’t realized he’d got so close. He shifts his gaze from the spot where Shiro had laid out his prosthetic.  _ You should apologize for not being there for him, t _ he guilty thing in his stomach tells him. Keith agrees. He takes another swig of his vronko, for courage, but Shiro changes the subject before he can get his words in the right order.

"What was the best thing about leaving Earth?" Shiro asks and Keith feels caught. Like his ship got caught on the outskirts of a black hole, and the thrusters aren’t working well enough to pull himself out.

He struggles for a moment. Leaving Earth hadn’t been a good thing. It had been a retreat. After his dad had died there hadn’t been enough humans left in their family to stay. Everything had hurt too much.

"I dunno," he says quickly. "We didn’t exactly leave for a good reason." 

He feels deflated. The vronko is starting to make his temples hurt, like someone’s squeezing them together. The thought of leaving Earth, leaving their home, makes him feel cold. He pulls his jacket back on over his shoulders.

Shiro’s eyes look sad. He finishes his second beer, but he doesn’t get a refill.  _ Probably smart,  _ Keith thinks. He pulls his glass closer anyway, like it’ll protect him.

"I’m sure some good came of it," Shiro says as he pushes his glass to the end of the table to be taken away.

Keith feels his chest squeeze, like it had every time Shiro had looked at him with a smile. Like when he’d seen Shiro, glaring at the seating chart at Allura’s wedding. Like when the three dots had appeared next to Shiro’s name on his communicator. 

"I guess the blades," he eventually answers. "They’re good." It’s not much of an explanation, but Shiro makes a noise of understanding, like maybe he doesn’t have to explain.

"The worst thing?" Shiro asks instead.

This time Keith doesn’t think.

"Leaving you," he says.

_ Fuck.  _

He watches Shiro’s features turn one by one. His eyebrows gather together. His lips turn downward, into what’s almost a wince. 

_ Now you’ve done it,  _ he tells himself. He pulls his hands off the table where they’d been resting around his glass, pulls them away from Shiro. His eyes, trained to find an exit in seconds drift towards the door, but that doesn’t seem like the smartest idea. He’ll still have to see Shiro at Kolivan’s bonding ceremony. Then again at Allura’s. At least he knows them both; he could ask to be sat away from Shiro. 

"Keith." Shiro’s voice is soft, gentle and steady. 

He reaches out. And Keith pulls in a breath as the cool of his prosthetic cups his face, thumb rubbing across his cheek slowly. It’s cool. Keith looks up, taking in the way Shiro is half standing to reach across the table separating them. The way his eyebrows are drawn together in concern, not a wince.

He shuts his eyes, inhaling through his nose, focusing on the tiny ministrations of Shiro’s thumb. Imagining that Shiro is wiping away the heat that fills his cheeks, the purple-red tinge he’s sure is there going with it. He wishes Shiro could wipe away the alcohol from his veins too. The stuff that’s making him too honest.

"I think you’re a bit drunk,” Shiro finally says. Keith nods as Shiro pulls his hand away, meeting Shiro’s eyes properly this time. He feels a little cooler. A little more clear headed.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Sorry, for… that,” he adds, because he doesn’t know what else to say. Shiro watches as he pushes his glass to the end of the table so that he can’t drink anymore. Eyes swinging back to Keith’s when he’s done.

“I missed you too,” he says when their eyes meet again. 

“Keith’s” chest hurts. 

“Im sorry," he forces out. He doesn’t trust himself to say the other thoughts racing through his head. The ones about how he’s missed Shiro every day, the ones about how he wants to pull him in for a hug. Shiro had always given the best hugs. He squeezes back. 

"It’s okay," Shiro says. "We were both kids. Friends drift apart."

Keith nods. 

His eyes feel warm and he wants to tell Shiro everything, about the grief, the way it had filled him up and made his body feel like it was holding the weight of the world. 

How leaving Earth had made him feel like he could jump again. 

How returning, for Allura’s wedding, had made his heart sink, until he’d seen Shiro.

‘I think I should go to bed.’ Keith pushes out after a moment.

‘I think that’s a good idea,’ Shiro replies, tone still soft. ‘I’ll see you in the morning?’

‘Yeah.’ Keith says before pushing himself up. The world turns as he does and he stumbles slightly, when he loses the support of the seating beneath him. Shiro’s hand reaches out, steadying him. 

Keith freezes for a moment. Taking in the kind eyes, the small smile. Then before he can think about it he leans down and kisses Shiro on the cheek.

The slight stubble tickles his lips. It’s brief and Keith pulls away quickly.

He’s sure that the heat in his cheeks isn’t just from the alcohol anymore.

‘Galra custom,’ he says quickly, before fleeing for the stairs.

* * *

Keith wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache. He has to run to the station, while trying not to vomit the contents of his stomach, to meet Antok for pick up.

It only takes a second for Antok to assess the bags under his eyes, the ruffled suit he’d slept in before he speaks.

"You’re hungover," he says as Keith slumps into the co-pilot seat.

"No shit," he replies, like a petulant child.

Antok says no more as he shifts the controls for lift off. Keith pulls out his communicator. Maybe if Antok thinks he’s busy he wont talk to him. The screen is too bright. And the black text makes his stomach churn, but he types out a message to Shiro anyway.

Keith: **_Sorry, Antok picked me up at 0900._**

When he doesn’t get an instant reply he sends another.

Keith:  **_Hope we’re still friends._ **

Shiro replies an hour later, just as they’re passing Daibazaal.

Shiro:  **_Of course we are. See you next week!_ ** **😄**

* * *

The next morning the universe's most read tabloid,  _ The Galactic Gossip,  _ publishes a photo of Shiro and Keith. They’re in the bar on Boh-tel. Keith’s lips are pressed to Shiro’s cheek. 


	3. Kolivan, Antok & Thace's Bonding Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro learns a lot more about Galra culture at Kolivan, Antok and Thace's bonding ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out [ this beautiful art by @lefitshark_](https://twitter.com/leftishark_/status/1356445397405716482)

_ Kolivan & Antok & Thace  _

_ Invite you to their bonding ceremony _

_ 1 . 19 . 3042 _

Shiro pulls up the invitation to Kolivan, Antok and Thace’s wedding—

_ Bonding Ceremony, _ he corrects himself.  _ Bonding Ceremony. _

He’s spent the best part of his day flicking between it and the next invitation on his padd. The dates, glowering at him in the soft glow of his padd, make his heart sink. He only has two more excuses to see Keith. It’s the same feeling he’d had this morning, when he’d woken up in his room on Boh-tel, a message from Keith flickering on his padd. He knows he shouldn’t sulk. That Keith has more important things to do than mess around on resort planets. But it hadn’t stopped the ache, the coldness he’d felt. It had reminded him of the morning after Adam had left, but bigger. More than just his bed had felt empty this time.

He flicks back to his messages to find his inbox empty. Shiro had taken the first jet home he could find, not wanting to stay in Boh-tel longer than necessary, not without Keith. 

_ It’s only been a few hours.  _ He reasons with himself, putting his padd down. The invitation to Kolivan’s bonding ceremony stares back up at him. It’s even less helpful than Bi-Boh-Bi’s invitation.

_ Maybe I offended him last night. _

‘Hey, Atlas,’ he says, addressing his virtual assistant. ‘Play some music.’  _ Anything to stop me from thinking. _ It’s as if Atlas can read his mind, because the sound of Mariah Carey fills his apartment. He tries not to think about the fact that Adam is the one who got him hooked on century-old Earth hits as he sings along under his breath.

He briefly thinks about messaging his therapist. There has to be a better way to manage the thoughts that rush around his head at atmosphere breaking speed than blasting them with music. But it works for now, and instead he focuses on a different method his therapist taught him. Direct action.

He picks his padd back up and hits Keith’s chat.

Shiro:  **_Hope you’re feeling better! Anything I should bring to the next wedding?_ ** **😄**

* * *

Over the next few days, Shiro develops a tumultuous relationship with his padd.

He hates it every time the screen turns on with no new notifications. No messages from Keith. He tries to spend time without it, challenging himself to longer and longer periods.  _ Out of sight, out of mind,  _ he reminds himself as he places it face down while he deep cleans his apartment. It doesn’t become a problem until it starts buzzing late into the evening.  _ Patience yields focus.  _ An old mantra his father taught him replays in his mind.

When he does turn his padd back over, he’s met with hundreds of notifications.

He has to blink a couple of times as he scrolls through them. Not that many people text Shiro. He’d spent his youth so focused on becoming the youngest to pilot an intergalactic mission that he’d missed out on a lot of friendships. Messages are usually from Iverson (his commanding officer), Pidge (checking he’s alive), Matt (sending him a meme), or his Mom (asking if he has a new boyfriend yet).

He scrolls down to the very first message, from Matt. There’s a link attached.

Shiro rolls his eyes, even though there’s no one to share his exasperation.

Matt:  **_Look! It YOU!!!_ **

**_Link attached_ **

Shiro opens it.

His own face stares back at him, his skin glowing through the backlight of the padd, mouth pulled slightly open in surprise. His eyes are about to widen, eyebrows raised. Keith is next to him, his lips pressed to Shiro’s cheek. It must’ve been taken the moment Keith kissed him, before Shiro had had a chance to realise what was happening.

The image sends him right back to Boh-tel, right back to the bar in the  Bi-Boh-Bi Ice Starship Suites. He remembers the way Keith had smelled sweet, his lips had felt soft. His cheeks had flushed so hot Shiro had been able to feel it when their skin touched. Shiro hadn’t expected the kiss, not from Keith. Not even if it was a Galra  _ thing _ . It had definitely never been a Keith  _ thing. _ Keith had always been averse to touch. Shiro knows now that touch is his love language. That he likes the physical connection between himself and someone else. When he was a kid he’d always wanted to put his arm around Keith, to draw him closer. Keith had learned to tolerate it, even if he had always pushed Shiro off eventually.

He scrolls down until the photo is out of sight.

_ Blade of Marmora, Keith Kogane, shares a heartfelt moment with childhood friend, human, Takashi Shirogane.  _ Shiro groans. He can’t remember any photographers in the hotel bar. In fact he can’t remember anyone else being there. And anyway, Keith had said it was a Galra custom. Why was this tabloid making such a big deal about it? 

He keeps scrolling, skipping the parts about them attending Bi-Boh-Bi’s wedding. There’s a paragraph about Shiro, who he is, how he knows Keith. He skips over that completely until he finds Keith’s name again.

_ Is Kogane looking for love? Perhaps attending the wedding of Allura Altea, after the collapse of their engagement four years ago, has put Kogane on the search for his own happy ending. _

Shiro scoffs. Keith and Allura hadn’t even made it to engagement from what Keith had told him. He moves on to the next line, which almost makes his heart stop.

_ Either way, a kiss is an intimate gesture for a Galra, and not one to take lightly. _

Shiro forces himself to skim read the rest before opening up his internet app. For someone who was Keith’s childhood best friend, he knows nothing about Garla.

An hour later Shiro’s search history is more embarrassing than the night he spent searching ‘What is gay’ when he was twelve and trying to figure himself out.

_ Do Galra kiss? _

_ What does a kiss mean for Galra?  _

_ Do Galra like PDA? _

_ Why don’t Galra like touching in public?  _

_ Who will a Galra kiss? _

_ Galra kiss on cheek meaning _

_ Galra relationships _

_ Galra signs of affection _

But he’s learned that touch can be uncomfortable for Galra if it’s not from the right person.

He’s learned that Galra mate for life.

That kissing is almost always private.

That kissing is reserved for your partner.

That for some Galra, long hair signifies that they’re unmated.

That makes him think of Keith, the way his hair, braided at Allura and Lance’s wedding, had fallen over his shoulder like the night sky. The way Keith’s eyes, a rare shade of blue on Earth, a typical Galra purple in space, had been framed by his dark bangs.

* * *

He thinks about the kiss as he lies in bed that night. He thinks about how he’d wanted to turn his head, to meet Keith’s lips with his own, but he hadn’t been quick enough.

He thinks about how his new Galra knowledge, now all deleted from his search history, brings clarity to some of his memories. The way Keith had recoiled from one of Matt’s hugs, how he’d stood apart from his class during flight demonstrations. 

But Keith had always let Shiro touch him, even if he hadn’t seemed that happy about it. He’d flinched the first time Shiro had put an arm around him, but then his shoulders had relaxed. 

Shiro remembers falling asleep on Keith a few times, usually during movies with too many explosions. He remembers how he’d always wake up with his head on Keith’s shoulder, Keith still engrossed in the movie. Those touches, the way Keith had pressed his lips to Shiro’s cheek, he can’t get them out of his head.

Soon, Shiro imagines what it would be like to fall asleep on Keith’s shoulder now. Keith is taller, still not as tall as Shiro, but he’s definitely stronger. Shiro has seen the Blades in action, seen the strength required to become one. And he’s seen the way Keith’s biceps fill out his uniform, his shirt. Would he let Shiro rest on his shoulder like he had when he was fifteen? 

* * *

After days of silence from Keith the kiss turns into something sour. It bleeds into his thoughts as Shiro tries to get back into his life on Earth. He would call it a routine, but irregular missions on and off Earth as an Ambassador make that pretty difficult. 

He attends his weekly dinner with the Holt’s. He’s been an honorary member since Kerberos, Colleen had insisted. He goes half for the food, and half for the semblance of family life. His own parents had moved to California after his dad retired, not impossible to visit. But Shiro can’t spend his entire life in the air. 

Tonight’s dinner is familiar to Shiro. 

‘Gyudon,’ Colleen declares, beaming, as she puts a plate down in front of Shiro.

He tries not to let the disappointment show on his face. He knows Colleen’s heart is in a good place, that she’s been swapping recipes with his mother, trying to make him feel like part of the family. But he’d really been looking forward to western food. The stuff that needs to sit in an oven for hours, cooking in fat. After years living alone Shiro is still too scared to use his oven.

‘Do you want extra rice, Shiro?’ She asks, placing the pot on the table. One day he’ll get the time to take Colleen shopping for a rice cooker. One that keeps the rice warm all day. 

Shiro shakes his head. ‘No thanks Colleen,’ he replies politely. He doesn’t tell her that he can make gyudon without a thought, that he has it every Wednesday night, when the meat goes on sale at the supermarket. 

‘So, Shiro,’ Matt says around his first bite of beef, ‘You and Keith dating now?’

Shiro freezes.

_ Keith only agreed to go to the weddings with you because it got the Blades of his back. T _ he voice at the back of Shiro’s head reminds him.

It’s been four days since he’s heard from Keith. His conversation on Shiro’s padd sits buried beneath notifications from Iverson, his father, Matt, the pizza delivery place, Pidge. Shiro can’t even see it anymore when he goes to send a message.

‘It was nothing,’ Shiro says, shoveling rice into his mouth. Maybe if he’s eating Colleen will make Matt leave him alone.  _ We were just pretending, _ he wants to tell them.  _ I just offered to pretend to be a date for my ex-best friend, who I now have a crush on,  _ he wants to say.

‘Dude, Galra don’t just kiss someone,’ Matt says. His chopsticks drop the piece of beef they were holding in his excitement. 

‘Keith does,’ Shiro replies. At least, he  _ does when he wants the Blades to stop arranging his marriage. _

‘Keith pushed me for standing too close to him in class once,’ Pidge joins in, she handles her own chopsticks more deftly than Matt. They keep hold of her food for her.

‘The guy hated everyone but  _ you,  _ Shiro. He loved you,’ Matt continues, the final sentence taking on a teasing tone. 

Shiro meets Matt’s eyes. If her weren’t a guest in Sam and Colleen Holt’s home he’d tell Matt to shut the fuck up. He hopes the look he gives him is enough.

Matt regains control of his chopsticks enough to retrieve his piece of beef. The look seems to work because he keeps his eyes lowered as he eats, avoiding Shiro’s eyes.

_ If he loved me then why did he leave? _ Shiro thinks, using his own chopsticks to get a mouthful of rice, something Matt hasn’t managed yet. 

‘So, Mom, what’s this dish called again?’ Pidge asks. Her tone sounds forced over the sounds of Matt fumbling with his chopsticks. 

_ If he loved me why hasn’t he replied?  _

‘Gyudon,’ Colleen replies. ‘Michiko sent me the recipe.’

_ The kiss was just Keith trying to persuade his family that he was dating someone.  _

‘Sounds legit,’ Matt says. ‘How is it Shiro? Just like your Mom’s?’

His name brings Shiro back to the table. He looks up to see Colleen looking at him expectantly. Shit.

‘Your mom gave my mom the recipe,’ Matt repeats himself, his brows flattening at Shiro. ‘Does it taste right?’

_ Oh.  _ Shiro nods quickly. ‘It’s great Colleen,’ he says. ‘I’ll tell her.’

Colleen gives him a soft smile. 

* * *

The atmosphere at dinner eases after that. Shiro manages to keep his mind off his relationship with Keith for more than five minutes. Pidge and Matt get into an argument about Shiro’s new prosthetic, the one that’s been in the  _ designing  _ stage for months.

‘I just think it would be cool if we could make it float, y’know it would be lighter,’ Matt is saying.

‘Yeah, but Shiro wants a  _ functioning  _ arm,’ Pidge argues back. ‘Not a floating fist,’ she jabs a sharp finger at Matt’s sketch.

‘He could grab things from really far,’ Matt continues, making a sound effect as he pretends to send his hand flying to the other end of the room. Shiro wants to put his head in his hands. Sometimes he wishes he’d just agreed to one of the 3D printed prosthetics they’d offered at the hospital instead. 

‘He could reach the top shelf, easy!’ he hears Matt shout, going for the hard sell.

‘Shiro can already reach the top shelf,’ Pidge counters and Shiro groans.

‘Katie, Matthew, Why don’t you ask Shiro what he wants?’’ Colleen cuts in, voice clipped and suddenly all eyes are on Shiro.

‘Imagine it, Shiro,’ Matt begins, hands flying as he talks. ‘You want the tabasco sauce that’s in front of dad.’ His hands point at the ugly red bottle sitting in front of Sam Holt. Shiro tries not to judge him for it, even though Sam had insisted on bringing two bottles to kerberos. 

‘I really don’t want tabasco sauce on my gyudon, sorry Matt,’ Shiro replies, trying to keep his tone smooth, but Matt cuts him off before he can finish.

‘Imagine you do. And imagine it’s really far away.’ He starts gesturing to Sam again. ‘But you’re tired. You did a rough workout today, it was leg day. I dunno.’ 

‘Actually, today was a rest day.’ Shiro keeps his face straight, annoying Matt will work as his revenge tonight.

‘Whatever. Tired. Shiro is tired,’ Matt continues. ‘You could just…’ He makes a popping sound effect as he pretends to pull his forearm from his elbow and aim it at the Tabasco sauce. He makes a whooshing sound.

Pidge groans.

‘And you’d be able to get the sauce without standing up! It would be amazing,’ Matt finishes, turning back to Shiro with a glint in his eye. Shiro holds his gaze for a moment, pretending to seriously think about it, just to get Matt’s hopes up a little bit.

‘Nah,’ he finally concludes, folding his arms.

The look of utter shock on Matt’s face makes Pidge burst into laughter. Matt’s expression reminds him of Keith’s face the first time Shiro had explained string theory to him.

The thought of Keith makes his chest ache.

‘What do you want then?’ Pidge asks. ‘Any extra functions? More human looking?’

Shiro looks down at his prosthetic. It’s silver in colour, light to lift. Works perfectly. He presses his palm, the one made of flesh and tendons and bone to the metal. Feeling the way the cool metal presses against skin.

_ Keith hadn’t minded. _ Hadn’t even flinched the first time Shiro encased his wrist with the metal. Keith had called it strong, a faint blush on his face as he had leaned his cheek into the metal. Shiro had liked that.

‘Nothing,’ he says quietly.

* * *

Shiro always stays to help with the cleanup. Colleen usually tries to insist that he doesn't have to, but she won’t let him pay for ingredients, or treat her to food, so it’s the least he can do. And it’s another reason not to look at his padd, one that he’s thankful for as he holds out his hands for Colleen to stack the plates onto.

His padd, stuck upside down in his back pocket, vibrates as he follows her to the kitchen.

Colleen’s padd vibrates a minute later. Along with Matt’s. And Pidges. Sam already has his out, squinting at it without his glasses.

Shiro ignores it, he’s still holding a stack of plates for Colleen to load into the dishwasher, but he watches as Pidge pulls her own padd out. He watches the way her face freezes.

‘Pidge?’ he asks, putting the plates down on the kitchen counter.

She turns the padd around for Shiro to read.

BREAKING:  **_Ambassador of the Marmora, half-human half-Galra Keith Kogane goes missing._ **

Shiro, suddenly thankful he put the plates down before looking, grabs his own padd. The same notification has invaded his screen.

_ No new messages from Keith,  _ he thinks, almost automatically, as he finds the new notification.

At least he knows the reason now. 

Intergalactic news:  **_Blade of Marmora: Captain Kogane missing_ **

Shiro feels his eyes go blurry. He can’t move, just holds his padd tighter. The tinnitus comes back with a roar and he has to take in a breath. It hurts as it enters his airway. He feels like he’s back in the Hercules, breaking orbit en route to Kerberos. The roaring, the breathlessness, the fear. His body starts to feel heavy, like a strength that he knows can’t possibly exist on Earth is pushing him down. 

He inhales again.

_ Keith is missing. _

And again.

_ And you’ve spent the past three days moping that he hasn’t messaged you back. _

And again. 

‘Woah, Shiro. Breathe out,’ Pidge says next to him.

Shiro exhales.

_ Keith is missing. _

Colleen takes his hand, leading him through his breathing exercises, the same ones that were taught to Sam and Matt after the crash. 

‘Do you want to hear the article?’ Pidge asks as his breathing evens out. Shiro nods. His throat feels tight.

Pidge starts to read, her voice quiet, steady. Shiro is more grateful for her than ever. 

‘The Blade of Marmora has released a statement to say that contact with a supply mission has been lost. Blades are currently searching the last known location of the supply mission which went dark three days ago.’ Shiro’s heart drops. 

‘The mission was led by half human Blade Keith Kogane. Kogane is an excellent pilot and is currently serving as the Blade’s intergalactic Ambassador.

This is a breaking news story and will be updated.’ 

The Holts and Shiro stare at each other in silence. They’re no strangers to mission failure. The plates sit untouched where Shiro had left them, the dishwasher open and half full. Shiro has one hand clutching his padd; the other is wrapped tightly around Colleen’s. Shiro’s seen the news coverage from the Kerberos crash, how it started off with an announcement of lost communication. He can imagine Colleen and Pidge, in this room as the news unfolds. 

The flashbacks hit him all at once. Kerberos. The Crunch of The Hercules hitting the ground. Hydraulics that won’t engage The phantom pain below his shoulder. Matt and Sam. Bleeding. Adam flinching at his prosthesis, Adam leaving. Keith. Missing in space. 

‘Shit,’ Matt says.

Shiro can’t get the air in quick enough. His chest is tightening. All of the work Collen has done falling apart, like a building collapsing. The guilt hits him, hard in the chest. 

He feels Colleen’s hand on his shoulder, hears her saying his name. As he turns to look at her she starts rubbing gentle circles just above his prosthetic, a habit she’d picked up when they were in hospital, waiting for Matt and Sam to wake up.

‘They said contact was lost,’ Colleen says quietly, just loud enough for Shiro to hear. She looks at Pidge for her next question, her hands ease Shiro’s shoulders back down.

‘Did they find any debris?’ Colleen asks and Shiro follows her gaze quickly to Pidge.

Pidge shakes her head, eyes still on her phone.

‘So it’s unlikely they crashed,’ Colleen continues, Shiro rubs his eyes. Colleen had been there those first few days after the accident, dividing her time between her family and Shiro, while he waited for his own parents to arrive. 

‘It says they’ve sent a search and rescue team, led by someone called Antok?’ Pidge adds.

‘Keith’s uncle,’ Shiro fills in. He doesn’t add that it’s Antok’s wedding he’s supposed to attend this weekend with Keith. 

‘If they sent a rescue team they must think they’re just lost,’ Colleen translates for Shiro. ‘It would be called recovery if they thought they were dead.’

Shiro nods.

* * *

‘Sorry,’ Shiro whispers later that night, as he leans into Colleen for a hug. He doesn’t know if it’s for almost having a panic attack in her kitchen, almost losing her husband and son during Kerberos or for arguing with Matt over dinner. She squeezes him back, just like his mother would have if she didn’t live all the way in California. 

‘For what it’s worth, I always thought Keith had a soft spot for you,’ she whispers back before pulling away with a smile. ‘And he’s a smart boy, he’ll find his way home.’

Shiro nods again. He’s not sure he can do much else.

* * *

Shiro makes himself busy after dinner with the Holt’s. 

He blocks the news app from notifying him on his padd.

He deep cleans his apartment. 

The next day he deletes the news app, after refreshing it obsessively all night.

He works out, calls his parents, watches TV. He makes curry. It’s not as good as his mom’s, yet. 

The news item about Keith catches him off guard. 

Shiro had turned the TV on before sitting down, a bowl of pasta in his hands, when he’d recognized the leader of the Blades on the screen. 

_ You should turn the TV off, _ he tries to tell himself, but for some reason he can’t. 

‘Will this weekend’s wedding be cancelled while the search for your nephew is ongoing?’ The newsreader asks. She’s Garlan, with light purple skin and pointed ears. 

The look Kolivan gives her is so icy, and the news reporter’s ears twitch slightly in the way Galra ears do sometimes. Shiro knows that glare. He’s watched Kolivan shoot it at Iverson during a treaty signing. Afterwards he’d laughed as Allura pulled her own face into the same stony expression. Today he doesn’t find it so funny.

‘Providing my mate returns in time, the bonding ceremony will go ahead,’ Kolivan says slowly. 

He won’t tell you anything, Shiro wants to tell the reporter.  _ Knowledge or death _ , he remembers Keith explaining about the Blades, and all their un-Galra traditions, to him when they were teens. But she continues.

‘Can you give us any information about the mission Captain Kogane was leading?’ 

Kolivan’s eyes turn sharp. He must be watching the news reporter through another camera because he directs his reply off screen.

‘That information is protected under the Blade Knowledge or Death policy,’ he says coldly. ‘And I have to go,’ he adds, the screen in front of the newsreader cutting out abruptly.

The next day Shiro keeps the T.V. off. 

* * *

Shiro’s padd starts vibrating the night before the bonding ceremony. He picks it up like it’s a precious thing, expecting a cancellation notice, that will shatter his heart into pieces. 

Keith:  **_Sorry, got caught up. No, you don’t need anything for Kolivan’s bonding ceremony, Antok will bring you something to wear._ **

Keith:  **_The ceremony’s still on BTW_ **

Shiro’s eyes start to prickle as he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. 

He wants to press the padd to his chest, he wants to get to Keith, to reach out to him and pull him in, tight. Make sure he’s really safe. 

_ Tomorrow,  _ he tells himself. He can do that  _ tomorrow. _

Shiro feels like his fingers won’t move fast enough to text Keith back.

Shiro: **_Keith!!_**

Shiro:  **_I’m so glad you’re okay!_ **

Shiro: **_I mean, I hope you are okay. I’ll see you tomorrow?_**

Keith:  🙂

The rest of the universe finds out four hours later.

* * *

The location of the Marmora base is so secret that Regris, a tall Galra with a reptilian like tale and a mask like Antok’s, is sent to escort Shiro to the Marmora base. Shiro tries not to watch with too much envy as Regris lands the fighter with ease, his fingers tilting the controls effortlessly. He’s itching to take the pilot seat again, if the Garrison will ever let him.

‘Thanks,’ Shiro says as Regris gestures for him to unbuckle his harness. It wasn’t the worst ride, but it had been awkward. Regris had watched him through the purple orbs of the blade mask for most of the flight. His tail had flicked from side to side as he’d quizzed Shiro on his relationship with Keith. On their history, Keith’s time on Earth, their kiss. Shiro had done everything to try to keep his cheeks from flashing his embarrassment. Regris, and the rest of the Galra, clearly believed their charade. 

‘Try not to make out with Keith when you see him,’ Regris says as Shiro gets to the door. It sounds like something Matt would say, a thinly veiled joke. Shiro coughs and pretends not to hear.

But then the door is opening onto the Blade’s fighter bay. It’s lit with a cool glow, with enough room for a hundred fighters and there are hundreds of other guests milling around, but Shiro’s eyes find dark hair and deep purple eyes instantly.

_ Keith.  _

His hair hangs loose around his shoulders, and he’s wearing his Blade uniform, Shiro hadn’t appreciated it properly at Allura and Lance’s wedding. It’s more formal than the robe Shiro had been sent for the ceremony. 

Shiro can’t help himself. He reaches out to Keith, pulling him into a fierce hug, his arms encasing him. Keith stiffens for a moment in shock before softening. His own arms find Shiro’s shoulders. He’s just tall enough to fit under his chin, and Shiro can’t help but turn his head into his hair. 

It’s not until then that he believes it. Keith’s really here, he’s okay. Solid. Shiro can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in the same recycled air of the base as Shiro. 

Regris clears his throat behind Shiro, and the two of them fall apart. 

‘Shiro,’ Keith says, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. 

Shiro notices the way Keith’s head tilts, his long hair covering his face as he takes Shiro in. Suddenly he feels exposed. His robe reaches his knees, just. Pidge had assured him he had looked fine with it over the black yoga pants in the selfie he’d sent her. 

But then Keith’s eyes focus on Regris, just over Shiro’s shoulder, his blush fading away to reveal a grimace. 

Shiro feels his chest tighten.  _ Am I wearing the robe wrong? Did Keith not want me to come? Did I say something? _ But then Keith shakes the hair out of his face, and Shiro can see the scar running down his cheek clearly. And it doesn’t matter if Keith wants him here or not, if he’s wearing the robe wrong, if he said something stupid, because all Shiro can think about is Keith’s face.

He lifts his hand before he even realises it. Touching Keith’s cheek gently. The skin feels rough where the scar is, like the ragged scar that splits his own face, just below his eyes. 

‘What happened?’ he asks quietly as Keith’s eyes find his own, his hand reaching up to cover Shiro’s gently.

‘Work hazard.’ Keith says, as Shiro’s eyes flit from his cheek to his nose, his forehead, his ears to check for injuries. The docking bay fades away, and he forgets about the other guests, about Regris. Everything in his head becomes Keith. He cups Keith’s face, lifting his head slightly to check his neck before moving onto his arms, his stomach.

Keith laughs. ‘Shiro, I’m okay, I promise,’ he says, pushing Shiro’s hands away. He hears the words, but Keith sounds like he’s far away, Shiro checks his face again, for tight lips, eyebrows pulled together, watering eyes, but there are no signs of pain. 

Keith’s hand over his own tightens, pulling Shiro back to the moment. 

‘Shiro, I’m fine,’ he says and that determined voice he always used to use when Shiro was starting to embarrass him.

‘Anyway, we match now,’ he adds with a smile. 

The words barely have time to land in Shiro’s heart before Regris calls out to them. 

‘I’m not listening to you complain next time you end up on the front page of a gossip site because you clearly deserve it,’ Regris says and Keith withdraws his hand like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He turns a shade of red Shiro remembers from their time on Earth. He’d always thought Keith’s blush was closer to purple than the red dusting of human cheeks.

‘Pulling shit like that in broad daylight,’ Regris groans as he walks past them to the exit.

‘Shut your face, Regris!’ Keith calls back, but he doesn’t actually look angry. Just teased.

‘Sorry Shiro,’ he adds when he turns back.

Shiro doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know Keith’s relationship with Regris. He doesn’t know any Galra except Keith and his mom really. 

‘Regris went through the trials with me,’ Keith admits. ‘Mom says he likes to tease me.’

_ Ah, they’re friends. _

‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ Keith adds, leading Shiro away from the docking bay.

* * *

Keith leads Shiro past the other guests, all dressed in similar purple robes. The majority of them share the purple tones of Krolia and Kolivan. There are a few cameras clicking but the room isn’t crawling with press like Bi-Boh-Bi’s wedding. The grip Keith has on his wrist is loose, like a bracelet, enough to remind Shiro that he’s there but not enough to make him feel trapped.

Keith leads them to a large room, lined with windows that look out to the depths of space. Shiro can see ships arriving, fighters like Regris’ leaving to pick up more guests. If he squints he can pretend he can see Earth. Keith stops just inside the door, the room is teeming with Galra already, some of them standing, some already taking their seats, which stop abruptly in the middle of the room. He thinks he can see Krolia, deep in conversation with Kolivan just in front of the step. She’s just as tall and imposing as she had been when he was fifteen. He’d been more worried about upsetting Krolia than his own father when he and Keith had accidentally stayed out five minutes past curfew. 

‘Sorry,’ Keith says. ‘Regris was right, we don’t want to make intergalactic news again.’ 

Shiro laughs. ‘No, Matt teased me about it for days.’

Keith’s eyebrows pull together,  _ probably remembering that time Matt tricked him into thinking he’d broken his neck with two bits of dried spaghetti.  _ Shiro remembers the look of utter horror on Keith’s face, and Matt’s laughter. Keith hadn’t looked at him the same way ever again.

‘I think Matt and Regris would be friends,’ Keith finally says, hand drifting to his right cheek. Shiro reaches out, grabbing Keith’s hand and pulling it away from the scar.

‘It’ll heal better if you leave it alone,’ Shiro says, not letting go until Keith nods. In any other situation repeating the words his own doctor had told him would make Shiro feel uncomfortable. But something about Keith has always made Shiro want to take care of him. 

‘It won’t heal,’ Keith answers, his tone nonchalant. 

‘We had this room built for bonding ceremonies,’ he continues, before Shiro can reply. 

_ I don’t care if it doesn’t heal _ , Shiro wants to say.

‘Years ago, we would’ve held ceremonies on sacred ground, but the war made that impossible. Now it’s destroyed.’ Keith had always seemed detached from Galra history. 

He treats it with the same disconnect Shiro had felt as a child, studying Kings who had argued with Popes, murdering their own, in a country he’d never visited, too distant to really seem true. He knows Keith isn’t old enough to remember the Galra Empire; neither is Shiro, or any human. But he knows Kolivan remembers, knows that the Blade was shaped by the atrocities. 

He doesn’t say any of this to Keith. Maybe he knows more now; maybe he’ll teach Shiro about it one day. Instead he lets Keith lead him to the row of seats just before the step.

‘We had this room built specially. Mom says it isn’t the same, but the rest of the Blade seem to like it. The part we’re in is called the hilt. We call this part the guard.’ He pauses to gesture at the step in front of them. His hair cascading over his shoulders as he shifts.

‘After the ceremony the bonded pair or group step past the hilt together.’ Shiro follows his gaze. Past the hilt isn’t anything special, it’s just a raised platform. Plain. Utilitarian, like everything else he’s seen so far on the base.

‘It’s our tribe’s tradition that we cut our hair when we are bonded,’ Keith adds in a lower voice. ‘So don’t be too shocked when Kolivan gets a haircut.’ Shiro can see Kolivan just behind Keith, deep in conversation with Krolia and two other Garla. He can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

‘I’ve always thought Kolivan’s hair was his best feature,’ he says quietly. 

‘Don’t tell him that, he’s already having second thoughts about his looks,’ Keith whispers back, sharing his grin, and Shiro laughs.

‘I think this is the most prepared I’ve been for one of these weddings,’ he adds, hoping Keith knows how grateful he is, how he wishes he could have Keith by his side all the time. He looks around at the rest of the hilt, now filling with guests. He spots a few, very obviously, not-Galra towards the back.

‘Am I sitting with the other ambassadors?’ he asks as Keith follows his gaze, finding the other non-Galra.

‘No,’ he says quietly, looking back at Shiro through his bangs. ‘You’re sitting here, with me.’ Shiro recognises the determined way he pushes his chin out. If he squints he could probably convince himself that the Keith standing in front of him is the stubborn kid he met fifteen years ago.

‘Okay. Does your Mom still think we’re dating?’ he asks the last part in a whisper.

Keith nods, blush creeping up his cheeks again. Shiro recognises the next look in his eyes too, the one that says  _ please play along, I don’t want my mom to yell at me. _

‘Got it,’ Shiro says as Keith leads him deeper into the centre of the hilt, sitting down next to Krolia. Shiro can just hear the end of her conversation with the masked Galra he recognises now as Antok. He looms over the rest of them even while seated.

‘Well thank you again for saving him,’ Krolia is saying and Antok lets out a bellowing laugh which is reciprocated by Kolivan and the other Galra standing next to them, Shiro assumes this must be Thace. 

‘Krolia, he’s as good as my own flesh and blood,’ Antok says, voice distorted by the mask.

‘I know,’ Krolia replies. Shiro can hear the warmth in her voice. She turns as Keith slots in next to her.

‘Shiro!’ Antok calls, drawing the whole row’s attention to him. ‘The famous Shiro!’ he continues, leaning past Krolia and Keith, with an impossibly long arm to tap Shiro, slightly too hard, on the back. He tries not to wince

‘Keith gave us a good scare this week huh?’ he asks, moving to ruffle Keith’s hair. ‘You should braid this, kit,’ he says, before turning back to Kolivan and Thace. 

Shiro thinks he hears Keith groan.

‘Shiro, it’s good to see you,’ Krolia says. Shiro’s only slightly taken aback at how young she still looks. He knows Galra age slower than humans, but Krolia looks more like a sister than Keith’s mother now. 

‘It’s good to see you too ma’am,’ he says. ‘My mother says hello,’ he adds for good measure. He remembers coming home to his mother and Krolia, huddled together, giggling in the kitchen over steaming cups of tea. Then his eyes catch the glow of Antok’s mask, still watching him.

‘Uh, yes, I was worried,’ Shiro answers, noticing the way Keith is suddenly interested in pulling his thick hair into a braid. ‘I’m glad he’s back safe and sound.’ 

‘We all are,’ Krolia replies softly before turning back to join Antok, Kolivan and Thace’s conversation. She looks happier than the last time he’d seen her. 

Shiro watches Keith for a moment, as he continues to braid his hair, head down. He doesn’t know what to say.  _ I thought you were dead? I thought you hated me? I almost cried when you messaged that you were safe _ . It’s too much for a friendship rekindled a month ago. Too much for a boy who left Earth to flee his grief. 

* * *

Keith, conveniently, doesn’t finish braiding until the lights dim for the ceremony. They watch Kolivan, Thace and Antok swear to stay by each other’s side, to love and support each other until the next life. Shiro tries to focus on them instead of the way the space between their seats feels like a void sucking in all of the things Shiro wants to say. 

They watch as the three of them take the step past the hilt together. 

They watch as Thace and Antok take a blade to Kolivan’s braid, cutting it together.

He feels Keith shift next to him, leaning in until he can almost feel his breath in his ear as he speaks.

‘Some Galra grow their hair to show they’re looking for a mate,’ Keith says.

‘I know,’ Shiro returns, just as quietly. ‘You cut it to show you’re mated.’ 

Keith pulls back. Shiro can read the question on his face before he says it.

‘I did some research,’ he answers as Kolivan’s silver braid, almost as tall as he is, is placed gingerly in his hands by Antok.

Shiro does not expect Thace to set the braid alight. He wrinkles his nose, waiting for the smell he remembers from an unfortunate chemistry lesson. A girl had set her fringe alight, he’d spent the rest of the lesson with his hands over his nose. But it doesn’t come. He puts it down to a Galra  _ thing. _

He watches in silence with the rest of the guests as the flame starts at the end of the braid, hanging between the three of them. He watches the way it climbs higher, like the Senko hanabi Shiro’s grandparents used to buy him when he visited them in Kanazawa. Shiro would spend hours sitting in their garden once the summer heat dissipated, watching the flame climb the sparkler, fizzling out just before it reached his hands.

Kolivan drops the braid just as the flame reaches his hands, depositing what’s left of it onto the ground.

For a brief moment Shiro imagines holding Keith’s hair in his hands, setting the beautiful black locks alight to burn to nothing. A Keith with short hair, a Keith with short hair because he decided to stay with Shiro for the rest of his life. 

‘You are bonded,’ the elder who had conducted the ceremony announces. Thace pulls Kolivan into a kiss, before pulling a still masked Antok into their haven.

‘Antok’s tribe only unmask for their mates,’ Keith whispers as the hilt bursts into applause around them.

* * *

‘So, Galra hair,’ Shiro starts as he and Keith watch the Blades clear the main part of the hilt. ‘Is that why you’ve let yours grow out so much?’

Keith leans back against the wall, his thick braid sitting on his shoulder now. He looks a little uncomfortable, winces as he folds his arms.

‘I guess so,’ he says slowly, not meeting Shiro’s eyes. ‘I didn’t exactly fit in when I first got here. The braid helps.’

Shiro nods.

‘It suits you,’ he says before he even thinks it through. He doesn’t add that he thinks short hair would suit Keith more. His eyes wouldn’t be so hidden, no hair would disguise his sharp cheekbones.

Keith keeps his gaze on the floor. He looks uncomfortable, like he’s searching for what to say. 

‘Do you want a drink?’ Shiro asks quickly, looking at the tables towards the back of the room. ‘I’ll get us drinks,’ he says, pushing off from the wall like a child in the pool, racing their friends.

* * *

Shiro returns with a glass of something he can’t remember the name of. He’d made the Galra serving drinks promise on Kolivan’s life that it wasn’t alcoholic. He’s not sure he can handle drunk Keith again so soon. 

Keith is in the same spot Shiro left him, except this time Krolia is inspecting his wrist.

‘Mom, I’m fine,’ Keith replies through clenched teeth as Shiro passes him a glass.

‘I’m just making sure,’ Krolia replies coolly. ‘How about your ribs?’ 

Almost instantly, Keith’s hands fly to his stomach in a half guard.

‘They’re fine mom. The healing pod fixed me up,’ he says, pushing the glass towards her in a means to push her away.

Shiro freezes. It hadn’t occurred to him that Keith had been hurt badly. He’d been on his feet most of the afternoon, He’d been well enough to message Shiro before news of his safe return broke. 

‘Keith, were you hurt?’ he asks quietly as Krolia backs away, hands up in a surrender.

‘No,’ Keith replies quickly.

‘Keith,’ Krolia scolds. Shiro’s heard that tone enough times to know she’s serious. He tries not to flinch.

‘Yes,’ Keith sighs. ‘A broken arm. A few bruised ribs, ‘I’ll be fine,’ he says quickly, directing his words more at Krolia than at Shiro.

Krolia whips around to face Shiro at that, he feels like a child again as she towers over him.

‘Keep an eye on him,’ she instructs. Shiro nods, and he must look convincing enough because Krolia gives Keith a quick kiss on the forehead before disappearing into the party, Keith’s glass in her hand. 

Shiro moves in front of Keith when she’s out of range, blocking his view of the party, and his exit. It’s a technique born of Keith’s childhood cageyness. Shiro remembers Keith, scrawny and too thin, dodging past him when he was upset. Refusing to look Shiro in the eye when he was angry at the world.

‘What happened?’ he asks in a low voice, trying to keep it even. He hopes Keith doesn’t remember the last time Shiro had cornered him. Keith had hidden away in Shiro’s basement, folded himself into the space between Shiro’s hoverbike and the wall. Shiro hadn’t realised that Keith had just received the worst news of his life. 

Keith doesn’t burst into tears this time. He doesn’t push Shiro. He doesn’t scream that he’ll never understand, because his dad was upstairs, still breathing. 

Instead he inhales. Meets Shiro’s eyes head on.

‘We were hijacked by Empire loyalists,’ he says. Shiro nods to show he’s listening. He keeps his gaze on Keith’s, willing him not to look away, not to deflect. He’s heard of terror groups who still idolize the long dead empire. He’s seen enough news stories about hijackings to understand. 

‘My team was outnumbered.’ The party continues around them as Keith struggles to find the words. Shiro can hear music, feel the tap of feet on the floor, he catches dancing out of the corner of his eye. He moves closer to Keith instead, hoping he can offer some privacy.

‘One of them had a laser blade,’ Keith continues, motioning to the scar on his face. Shiro wants to reach for it again. It had felt so right, that night on Boh-tel, with his prosthetic cupping Keith’s cheek. Like it was meant to be there. Maybe he’ll appreciate it, he thinks, remembering the way a flushed Keith had leaned into the cool of the metal. 

‘We managed to fight them off. One of them knocked me over, broke my wrist,’ Keith continues, glossing over the injuries like they’re unimportant ingredients, the kinds of things Shiro leaves out when he’s having a bad day. The spring onion on top of his gyudon, the pickle on the side of his curry.

‘Then we crashed. I think that’s when I hit my head. We landed on an uninhabited planet, waited a few days for help.’

Shiro watches him as he talks, the way the scar shifts slightly with the shape of his mouth. He realises that Keith’s scar is on the wrong side for his prosthetic to cool it. But he lifts it anyway, telegraphing his movements. He sees the way Keith’s eyes flicker towards it, apprehensive at first, but then he finds Shiro’s eyes again, tilts his head, as if to give permission. 

Shiro presses his prosthetic to Keith’s cheek, cupping it gently. He watches the way Keith closes his eyes, for just a second.

‘I thought that was the end,’ he says quietly.

‘I’m glad it wasn’t,’ Shiro replies and he feels Keith nod. Shiro knows the prosthetic doesn’t have temperature sensors, but he swears he can feel the warmth from Keith’s cheek, as if the scar is still burning. 

He likes it, Shiro decides. Keith, here, within touching distance. Connected to Shiro by something more than a satellite signal and a padd. He lets his mind drift for a second, imagining a world where he could touch Keith whenever he wanted, a world where he knew Keith was safe, where he knew how he was feeling.

Keith pulls away. It’s sudden, sharp, and Shiro feels the loss immediately, his hand still cupped in the shape of Keith’s cheek, but Keith is glaring over Shiro’s shoulder, and Shiro turns with it to see Antok, who waves a hand in apology before disappearing.

‘Ugh. Fuck,’ Keith mumbles, leaning back against the wall again, not paying any attention to the way Antok practically skips back to his mates, leaning into one another on the dance floor. Other Galra have joined them, couples, both with short hair, the odd pair with their braids intact. Shiro spots Krolia and then turns back to Keith like he’s been caught.

‘Uh, should we keep up the charade for your mom?’ he asks as Keith’s eyes find Antok, then Krolia.

‘I think she wants you to ask me to dance,’ Keith sighs. ‘But I also think she’ll be mad that I might break another rib dancing.’

‘ _ You broke a rib?! _ ’ Shiro can’t help but exclaim. 

‘Shiro, it’s fine, really.’ Keith sounds exasperated as Shiro looks him up and down, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. The petulant look Keith gives him is the same one he’d given Shiro from the ground when he was fourteen. Shiro had deliberately spent the whole afternoon teasing him about losing their hoverbike race. He should’ve known Keith would respond, but he hadn’t expected him to cut his turn so sharply, to fly over the handlebars and land in the sand with a thud. Shiro doesn’t want to get on Krolia’s bad side ever again. 

_ Nothing’s changed,  _ is all he can think as he meets Keith’s eyes again. He has the same look on his face that he did before the hoverbike race. The one that Shiro knows means  _ you can’t stop me. _

* * *

Keith persuades Shiro onto the dance floor eventually. It takes a testimony from Regris that Keith had spent an entire day in a healing pod after the rescue, an approving look from Krolia, and a threat from Keith to convince Shiro. 

‘I can’t believe you threatened to tell your  _ Mom  _ that we had  _ sex _ .’ Shiro mouths the last word, just in case Krolia does hear, his cheeks flushing at his own words. Keith ignores him as he positions them on the dance floor. They keep to the edge, out of colliding distance from other guests, and out of earshot, Shiro hopes. 

‘The taller, traditionally stronger, mate goes here,’ Keith says quietly, grabbing Shiro’s hands and placing them on his hips. He does it with such force that Shiro is sure he can feel Keith’s hip bones. He tries to climb his hands a little higher, to a more respectable spot on Keith’s waist, but the glare Keith fixes with him is enough to make him lower it again.

‘Shouldn’t you be the stronger mate?’ Shiro asks, trying to distract himself as Keith wraps an arm around his neck.

‘Well I’m definitely not the tall one.’ Keith laughs, relaxing a little before leading Shiro into step with the other Galra.

‘True,’ Shiro replies, doing his best to follow Keith’s steps, trying to ignore how strong Keith feels under his hands. 

Shiro’s thankful that Keith doesn’t try to start a conversation as they move; it would be one step too far. Silence has always been comfortable with Keith anyway. Instead he focuses on his feet, on the way Keith moves gracefully. How he keeps his steps slow enough for Shiro to follow, his braid swinging behind him as he turns. Shiro’s sure the other dancers are looking at them. He tries to ignore it.

Keith keeps them at the edge of the dance floor, not following the other Galra who move as if following a flightpath. Shiro tries his best not to think about how close his hands are to Keith’s butt. Tries his best not to think about how soft Keith feels, how lucky he’s been to be able to hold Keith,  _ twice, _ today. He gets caught up in the warmth of being so close to Keith, in the press of his hands around Shiro’s neck. He doesn’t notice his feet falling behind; he doesn’t notice that they’re not quick enough to follow Keith’s and he stumbles. Their feet tangle, Keith trips and Shiro’s instincts kick in. His hands flying up to Keith’s elbow as he falls, hoisting him up, and he lets out a stunned ‘Keith!’ as he does it, a little too late.

He doesn’t expect Keith to burst into laughter once he finds his feet, grabbing onto Shiro for support.

‘Thought you were the pilot with lightning fast reflexes?’ Keith asks, finding his way back to standing through laughter.

‘I caught you,’ Shiro replies quickly, catching sight of Krolia over Keith’s shoulder. She’d always known when Keith was in trouble, sometimes before Keith even knew. Shiro had chalked it up to alien mom senses when he was a kid. He pulls Keith off the dance floor, apologizing to the couple next to them as they go. 

‘We’re giving up on this dancing thing,’ he says. The same tone he’d used when training cadets. Keith doesn’t protest, clearly reading between the lines.  _ No objections. _ But Shiro does catch the ghost of a grin on his face, it’s infectious. 

* * *

They spend the rest of the evening drifting from table to table. Keith seems to know every single guest. He makes his rounds like a dutiful nephew, putting on a polite smile, even for the Biizoid ambassador who Shiro can’t look at with a straight face. He keeps Shiro close as he moves between the Blades, or maybe Shiro is the one following Keith. Like a moon refusing to give up on its planet. He’s not sure. But he sees the way Keith looks back every time a new group of blades, calls him over.

Eventually they land on Kolivan, Antok and Thace’s table. They’d jeered as Shiro had pulled Keith from the dance floor, ignoring the glare Keith had given them. Shiro watches as Thace pulls at Keith’s braid affectionately. 

‘Looking forward to cutting your own haircut?’ he asks as Keith pushes him off.

Shiro stands there awkwardly, feeling himself shrink a few centimeters with the stare Kolivan is giving him. The one that says,  _ don’t mess with my kit. _

‘Why do I feel like I just got interviewed by the FBI?’ Shiro mutters as they retreat. Now his eyes have adjusted to the cool tones of the Marmora base he can see the shadows hanging under Keith’s eyes, the way he can’t quite keep them open all the time.

‘Because you did,’ Keith replies, falling into a chair at an empty table. ‘Space FBI.’ Shiro watches his eyes flutter shut again.

_ He has a point,  _ Shiro thinks to himself. The Blade of Marmora were basically the intergalactic police, secret agents and lawyers at this point. Even Earth calls on them for help. 

Shiro wonders if Keith likes it here. Living on a base that won’t share their coordinates with outsiders, where he can’t be found. He looks more relaxed on base, Shiro has noticed. His shoulders don’t stand so high, like he’s always ready to fight.  _ He’s brighter here,  _ Shrio can’t help but think. Keith had always been bright, once Shiro had got past his walls he’d been blinded. But here, on Marmora base, it’s different. A gentle light, one that fits in.

‘Do you like it here Keith?’ He asks, sinking down into the vacant seat beside Keith, close enough to watch the way his eyelashes flutter before his eyes open. 

‘Is it better than Earth?’  _ Better than me? _ He doesn’t add the second part. He doesn’t have the courage to. 

Keith blinks a few times, and Shiro wants to drop the subject. Notices the way he clenches his hand, the right one, before releasing it. It’s slow, like the pain is grating. 

Eventually Keith shrugs. ‘Dunno,’ he says. ‘I like missions. I like feeling like I can do good. I have friends here, my Mom, my uncles.’

‘Right,’ Shiro agrees. Because Keith is right. Why would he miss Earth? He has everyone he needs here, on a base in the middle of nowhere, hidden from prying eyes, from Earth.

‘But I miss the sunsets,’ Keith adds, he’s circling his wrist now, like he can will the pain away. ‘The desert. Olive Garden.’

Shiro can’t help the grin that finds its way to his face, remembering the days he and Keith would sneak away to the city. Keith had always filled up on the breadsticks before their mains arrived. 

He doesn’t catch the glance Keith gives him. The one out of the corner of his eye, that lingers on Shiro’s scar, then his eyes, then his smile.

‘Well, if you ever want to come back,’ Shiro says, quietly, keeping his eyes down. He doesn’t want to see Keith’s response. Not if it’s going to be a rejection. 

‘I can stay on your couch?’ Keith finishes from him.

Shiro laughs.

‘Yeah. Of course.’ 

They spend the rest of the evening slipping back into easy conversation. Shiro is aware that this is usually the point where Keith is relying on liquid courage. But he’s not tonight, and that must mean something. 

Keith talks easily, fills in the gaps. He tells Shiro about the blade trials, about the scar that tears its way down his shoulder. Shiro replies with his parents moving away, his weekly dinner with the Holts.

‘I think you should get some rest, Keith,’ Shiro says eventually, after Keith winces for the fourth time in a minute. 

‘And I need to get home,’ he adds, hastily, before Keith can complain.

He tries not to be too disappointed when Keith nods.  _ Keith is in pain,  _ he reminds himself.  _ Keith needs rest, not to listen to you all night. _

‘I’ll see you off this time,’ Keith says, startling Shiro out of his thoughts.

‘You don’t have to,’ he says quickly as Keith rises, pushing the chair that had been so close to Shiro’s away. It makes him think about how far he’ll be from Keith in a matter of hours. He hates it. 

‘Yeah I do,’ Keith tells him as Shiro pushes himself up. ‘I couldn’t last time.’

_ Right. Last time he left. _

‘I had to prepare for the mission,’ Keith offers, Shiro knows that if he pushes he’ll get an apology. But he doesn’t.

He knows Keith is right. That the mission was above all else to a Blade. But he’d hated waking up on Boh-tel without Keith. He’s starting to think he hates every planet he wakes up on without Keith.

‘I’ll see you on Altea next week?’ Shiro asks quietly. 

‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ Keith replies, before leading him to the exit. And all Shiro really hears is  _ I’ll see you in a week. _

As they walk towards the door of the Hilt Shiro notices the Galra watching them. They don’t stare, but they notice as they pass. One Galra, larger than Shiro, with ears like a Cocker Spaniel, looks Keith up and down, and Shiro can’t help the arm that snakes its way around Keith’s waist, pulling him into his orbit.

When they reach the door Shiro stops. It’s quieter over here, just out of range of the main party. He doesn’t know what comes over him next. Doesn’t know if it’s the look Kolivan had given him. Thace teasing Keith about his own bonding ceremony. The cocker spaniel eared Galra. Krolia telling him to keep an eye on Keith. But something possesses him to whisper, in that conspiratorial way he used to ask Keith for a hoverbike race when they were supposed to be doing their homework. 

‘Think we should kiss?’ 

Keith stares at him like he’s gone mad, the words hanging between them like stars.  _ Wrong move,  _ he thinks. But he can’t drop it now. Not when Keith bites his lip.

‘Your family think we’re dating right?’ he asks, leaning into their agreement. ‘Wouldn’t it be weird if we didn’t kiss?’ 

_ You’re just helping Keith out,  _ he tells himself. 

_ Helping him keep his mom off his back. _

He’s not asking because Keith’s lips look like they need a kiss pressed to them. He’s not asking because he wants to envelope Keith in his arms one more time tonight. 

He’s not asking because he wants to feel Keith on him when he gets home. He’s not asking because he wants to remind his body that Keith is safe. 

‘Uh,’ Keith mumbles. ‘Yeah,’ he says, purple gaze finding Shiro’s. 

_ He’ll always rise to a challenge, _ the thought makes him feel warm.

_ If you really like Keith don’t pretend to date him,  _ a voice in Shiro’s head says, but Shiro ignores the guilt. He reaches out with his hand and takes his chin. He’s mindful of the scar that sits on his cheek. Feels the hitch of breath Keith takes before their lips meet. It’s just a press, just long enough for Shiro to close his eyes. 

When he pulls away Keith’s face is as red as the sand of the desert where they spent their childhood. He watches as Keith presses the back of his hand to his lips, like he’s checking they’re still there.

Keith doesn’t meet his eyes again that night. But he does text Shiro once his ship takes off.

Keith:  **_Thanks for tonight._ **

Shiro’s sure he’s fallen for him. Sure he has to tell him.

Next time he promises himself.  _ Before it’s too late. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam Holt's use of tabasco on gyudon is not recommended.   
> (But I did once watch someone insist on eating gyudon covered with tabasco. It was horrifying.)


	4. Allura and Lance's Marriage Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith's feelings for one another become a little too evident at Allura and Lance's Altean ceremony.

_Allura Altea & Lance McClain _

_Invite you to their marriage ceremony_

_1 . 30 . 3042_

  
  


A week later Keith finds himself in Altea, standing at the dock of the Altean Castle, home to King Alfor, Princess Allura and soon, her husband Lance McClain. The castle, the landing dock, all the buildings of Altea are the pristine white of Altean metal. It shines, even in the evening light, illuminating the city around it. 

Keith’s always found something about Altea anxiety inducing. 

He thinks it’s the architecture. Alteans love wide, open spaces and high ceilings, but all Keith sees is a lack of cover. There’s nowhere to hide. No shadows to provide cover. It makes him uneasy.

It might also be because at one point, when he was twenty-three, he’d been facing a life on Altea, married to a woman he didn’t love. 

He shifts his weight, looking for a Garrison ship amongst the other arrivals. Allura and Lance’s Altean ceremony is limited to thirty guests, and Keith has already seen twenty other ships land. Antok promised it would be more private, no press, no other blades either. Keith still isn’t sure if he was alluding to the fact that a room had been prepared for him in the castle for the night. That he’d have the rest of the evening to spend with Shiro before pick up in the morning.

He tries to push away the thought of alone time with Shiro. He’s spent most of the week trying to do that, trying not to think about the kiss. The way Shiro had guided his chin like he was the most precious luxite in the world, how his lips had tasted like home. How Shiro’s eyes had fluttered shut, revealing eyelashes longer than Keith had thought possible. How the texture of the scar across his nose looked so different up close, like a river cutting its way across a map.

_Shiro was right,_ Keith thinks as he watches a sleek Altean ship slide into the docks. A kiss convinced his family that they were dating. His Mom has spent all week asking Keith to invite Shiro to dinner. Kolivan hadn’t said anything, but Antok and Thace have taken to tugging his braid whenever he walked past. They’ve also started discussing how good Keith would look with short hair and whether he wanted Shiro to be given his own luxite blade to do it. Keith hates the teasing, but he can’t bring himself to regret the kiss. Not when it had felt so right.

Keith pulls a hand through his hair as he watches the Alteans disembark. They’re taller than Keith, with the same light blue markings as Allura and her father. Keith doesn’t look their way and they barely pay him any attention. 

But then he notices it. 

A Garrison ship. 

It’s a big, clunky Earth thing with the Garrison’s signature orange logo painted on the side. Keith tries not to cringe. He can’t imagine how Shiro had ever piloted something so heavy so easily.

He watches the ship dock, pacing as it slides into the bay. He wants to meet Shiro at the door, but then he thinks better of it. Finds his way back to the edge of the waiting area. The door slides open and Shiro disembarks, familiar in his Garrison uniform. He finds Keith instantly, bursting into a smile that lights up his whole face. Keith’s heart twists.

‘Hey,’ Shiro says when he reaches Keith, his prosthetic snaking around Keith’s shoulders and pulling him into a lopsided hug. They’re so close Keith can smell Shiro’s cologne. He tries not to breathe it in too obviously. 

‘Hey,’ he replies as Shiro gives him a squeeze. It’s the kind of hug he’s missed, the same brand of bone crushing he remembers his dad giving him. _Earth thing, h_ e thinks, forcing himself to squeeze back even though everything Galra in him says that this is too public. 

An Altean dressed in robes of gold, the Altean colour of weddings, takes Shiro’s bag, leaving the two of them to find their way to the castle. It’s only a short walk from the dock, but the gray sky makes it seem longer. Weather is not something Keith has missed by living on the Marmora base. The clouds on Altea have always looked ominous to him anyway.

‘So, any idea why Allura and Lance get to have two ceremonies?’ Shiro asks, he’d followed Keith’s eyes up to the sky momentarily before quickening his pace, obviously coming to the same conclusion as Keith.

‘This one is a traditional Altean ceremony,’ Keith shrugs. ‘I guess they wanted to please both of their families, or something.’

‘Right,’ Shiro says. His steps are wide as he takes in Altea. Keith has to focus to keep up. He sneaks a glance up at him as they walk. Shiro looks relaxed, much more relaxed than he has for the previous three ceremonies. 

_Maybe he doesn’t need me anymore,_ Keith thinks. 

_Maybe after this ceremony that’ll be it. We’ll go back to being strangers._ They haven’t had much communication since Kolivan’s ceremony. 

Since the kiss. 

Ketih has been bed bound, his mothers orders when she caught sight of him later that evening. She assumed he was in pain from his injuries. Keith hadn’t been able to tell her it was the lock on Shiro’s face after the kiss that had him slumped on their kitchen table. His heart had gone into overdrive the minute Shiro had touched him, like he was conducting electricity straight into Keith’s pulse. Keith had never kissed anyone before, he hadn’t known what to do. And when they’d pulled apart, when Shiro had opened his eyes, there had been something new in them. Something different in the set of his jaw, the way he’d pressed his lips together. It was something Keith couldn’t place. A look he hadn’t seen on Shiro before. 

‘Any idea what I should expect?’ Shiro asks, he gives Keith a playful grin now. ‘Impromptu haircuts? Vomiting aliens?’

Keith can’t help but laugh. ‘No,’ he says. ‘Alteans use something called a mind meld in their bonding ceremonies.’

Shiro’s eyes don’t flicker in recognition. Honestly, Keith wishes he didn’t know either; he only knows so much about Altean weddings because of Kolivan’s meddling in his love life.

‘It’s like… mind reading I guess?’ he begins. ‘I’ve never used one, but we’re all hooked up and Allura and Lance have to convince us that they love each other.’

‘Yup. This is going to be the weirdest one,’ Shiro says and Keith laughs again. 

* * *

It takes Shiro a few minutes to get over the mind meld, but after that they fall back into conversation. 

‘Did you know the castle is also a ship?’ Shiro asks.

Keith laughs.

‘Yeah, but don’t think it’s left planet in my lifetime.’ 

‘Can you imagine being able to fly your house to another planet?’ Shiro asks before spinning into all the things he would do, all the places he would go if his apartment wasn’t on the third floor, with five above it, holding it down on Earth.

Conversation is easy with Shiro. He knows when to take the lead, when to fill the space between them when Keith can’t quite get the words out. Today he does it with a gleam in his eyes. They catch Keith, like direct sunlight early in the autumn mornings. Shiro practically beams at him when their eyes meet.

Once they enter the castle, and once Shiro gets over his marvelling, Altean servants lead them to the other guests. The room is a bright white, lined with golden flowers, open and airy. 

Allura is standing in the midst of it, surrounded by Alteans and aliens alike, hanging on her every word. She’s in a white gown, trimmed with gold, much simpler than her Earth dress. Keith watches as the Alteans burst into laughter at something she’s said, Lance standing next to her, hanging on her every word. 

‘How does Allura always look so perfect?’ Shiro whispers in his ear.

‘Altean magic,’ Keith shrugs, just as she notices them, leaving Lance to hold his own in their conversation with a tall Altean who Keith doesn’t recognise. As Allura practically bounds towards them, a knowing look on her face.

‘Shiro! Keith!’ she exclaims, leaning over to kiss them both on the cheek.

‘Sorry,’ she says as she catches what must be the look of disgust on Keith’s face. ‘Earth habit, I must have picked it up from Lance’s parents.’ Keith can see Lance glaring at him over her shoulder. He looks ridiculous, head to toe in white. He must grin because Shiro elbows him gently, steering clear of his almost healed ribs. 

‘That’s okay Allura,’ Shiro says, directing his easy going smile at her now. ‘How was the honeymoon?’

‘Fabulous, we travelled the Americas, it was fascinating. Did you know they have an entire contest for cheese in Wisconsin? And Brazil has the most fabulous carnivals, there were so many colours.’

Shiro laughs, really laughs, leaning his head back to do so. Something about it makes Keith’s stomach twist. He can’t remember the last time he made Shiro laugh like that.

Before he can stop himself a growl forms in his throat. It’s tiny, barely noticeable to a human ear. But not to an Altean one. Allura’s eyes are immediately on him and Keith feels his cheeks start to flush. Sometimes he thinks he got the worst of both human and Galra genes. Growling is not a Galra trait he appreciates. 

‘I see the two of you hit it off at our wedding,’ Allura says, changing the subject quickly, looking between Keith and Shiro.

‘Oh, we actually grew up together,’ Shiro fills in quickly.

‘On Earth?’ Allura asks, her eyes going wide like she’s only just realized.

‘Yeah,’ Keith says quickly. He can see the way Allura’s knowing gaze is flickering between them. 

‘And now you’re…’ Allura trails off and Keith knows what’s coming. He doesn’t want to lie to Allura, he likes to think they’re close. Or, as close as you can get to someone during marriage alliance negotiations. But she heard the growl. He definitely can’t explain that to Shiro, and Allura would _definitely_ know he was lying.

‘Dating,’ Shiro says, completing Allura’s sentence for her. He grabs Keith’s hand. It’s subtle, but just enough to catch Allura’s attention. Shiro squeezes Keith’s palm gently, and it makes him feel grounded. It had taken Keith years to get used to the Marmora base, used to not having Earth, and natural gravity, beneath his feet. But with Shiro next to him it hadn’t mattered. And it doesn’t matter that he’s on Altea, with it’s too tall Alteans and it’s wide open spaces.

Allura breaks into a smile. 

‘I’m so happy for you Keith. For both of you,’ she says. She’s about to turn around, her face searching for Lance’s when Keith reaches out, grabbing her wrist. Shiro drops his hand as soon as he does, separating them. Keith spots Alfor over Allura’s shoulder, watching them intently.

‘Allura,’ he says as she turns back, lowering his voice. He can hear Lance speaking, this time making the whole room erupt into laughter. 

‘Keep it quiet?’ he asks, and something in his face must convey how serious he is because she nods without another word.

* * *

Moments later the Keith, Shiro and the rest of the guests are ushered into what Coran calls _The Mind Meld Room_. 

‘I thought it would have a more mystical name,’ Shiro whispers as he follows Keith into, yet another, white, spacious room. This time lined with plush gold curtains.

‘Alteans are so literal,’ Keith replies. He’d asked Allura about it once, when Kolivan and her father were still tiptoeing around the idea of an engagement. She’d just brushed him off with an, ‘It sounds better in Altean, Keith.’

‘Aren’t they the most technologically advanced species in the universe?’ Shiro asks as they slip into their seats. The chairs are widely spaced, with enough room for people to walk through each row, and each aisle, without disturbing the guest. Keith finds himself sitting much further from Shiro than he’s used to despite the seating plan having them side by side. He’s not a fan. Each seat has a tiny table in front of it, with it’s own mind meld headset. They’re so clean that they glimmer.

‘Yup. But they call their delicacy food _Food Goo_.’

Something warm bursts in his chest when he hears the wheeze Shiro lets out to disguise his laugh. 

Coran’s eyes find them immediately at the noise, and Shiro freezes next to him, sits up straighter, all traces of laughter gone. Keith wrinkles his nose back at Coran, a habit he’d developed during talks of the marriage alliance between Altea and Marmora. Coran had somehow known it was a bad idea from the start. 

The last to enter are Allura and Lance, and Coran leads them to the centre of the room, where two thrones sit, towering above the rest of the guests. A pair of mind meld headsets identical to the ones Shiro and Keith will wear next to them. Coran holds Allura’s hand as she sits down before turning to the guests.

‘Ladies and gentleman, Alteans and Galra, Arusians and Humans, Olkari and Biizoids,’ he begins. Keith sinks down into his seat, hoping Coran won’t notice. Allura giggles and grabs Lance’s hand, linking them together. Keith wishes he could do that with Shiro. But their chairs are too far apart. He’d have to stretch, and then he’d have to get Shiro’s attention. And Shiro would have to stretch too. It wouldn’t be endearing like Allura and Lance, it would just be embarrassing. 

‘You have been invited to this ceremony as witnesses to the Princess and her husband’s love. This will cement their bond,’ Coran continues, picking up his own mind meld device.

‘To truly appreciate the love they have for one another you must meld your minds to theirs. Feel their bond, the surety of their match yourself. To do this you have been issued a headset and you must focus on one thing: the Princess.’ 

‘And Lance,’ Allura interjects.

‘And her husband.’ Coran corrects. ‘Everything else has to fade away, to witness-’ Coran falters, pulling out an oversized handkerchief and holding it to his eye. ‘To witness the bond they have for one another.’

Coran has to turn around to blow his nose before instructing the guests to pick up the mind meld headsets. Keith wants to tell Shiro that he’s never been more relieved he didn’t have to marry Allura. But he keeps the thought to himself as he picks up his headset. It’s a white, with receptors that go over his temples. It reminds him of a spider, or one of those head massagers they sell back on Earth. He’s sure he remembers Shiro’s mom having one at one point. Shiro seems to be having similar feelings. Keith catches him inspecting the headset before grinning at Keith sheepishly as he places it on his head.

The room falls into a hush as the guests pull the mind melds over their heads, the lights dimming until only Allura and Lance, lit by skylights in the ceiling, can be seen clearly. Keith is one of the last to pull his headset on, fumbling with it as he goes, it presses his hair down uncomfortably and he can feel the power, thrumming through the receptors as they make contact with his temples. 

The pressure of the headset, the dark, the distance from Shiro all make Keith feel like he’s floating. Like he’s alone, in the dark. He wants to reach out for Shiro, their seats too far apart. He wants to remind himself that Shiro’s still there. But he doesn’t. 

‘The mind meld has now activated.’ Coran’s voice circles around the room before his words become clear to Keith. He hadn’t noticed the way sound had bounced from the walls to the heights of the ceiling before the lights had been turned off.

‘Focus your thoughts on the Princess and her husband.’ 

Keith tries to focus on Allura. He keeps his eyes focused on her, the way she sits, shoulders back, her head held high, eyes closed. But then he thinks of Shiro, and the way he’d looked so uncomfortable in Havana, at Allura’s first wedding. He’d pulled himself up, his back so straight he’d looked like an eager young blade who had just started training.

It takes a few moments for Keith to feel the images coming from Allura, the imprint of her mind. He doesn’t quite notice until the Shiro from the Catedral de San Cristobal melts into Lance. It comes with a hot feeling, warm in his-Allura’s chest. It’s like the feeling he gets when he sees Shiro. Comforting. Lance blushes and Keith feels glee, Allura’s, run through him. 

There’s a brief moment when he thinks he sees himself in Lance’s place, his cheekbones sharp as he blushes, but then it morphs into Allura. She looks beautiful, even more radiant than she does in real life, like the sun is shining on her all the time, Lance can find her anywhere.

But the image stutters, into Keith. Braid tucked over his shoulder, trying to hold back laughter as Bi-Boh-Bi and Mi-Moh-Mi stand at a fake altar. A warmth fills his chest, and Keith knows it isn’t his. Knows it isn’t Allura’s, or Lance’s, or any of the other guests…

Coran clears his throat loudly, the sound reverberating around the room.

The images flicker again, and this time they’re of Shiro. His prosthesis reaching for Keith, cupping his cheek. Keith feels cold, and something in the pit of his stomach flies. He sees Shiro, grinning at him in the desert, then himself. Sixteen. Alone in his new room on the Marmora base, his Earth phone still intact. Re-typing a message to Shiro that never got sent. Keith can’t see the words, but he knows them. _I miss you. I love you._

‘If we could keep our thoughts focused on the Princess and her husband,’ Coran says, his voice faltering. 

But Keith can’t, not when his head is so full of Shiro. He opens his eyes, and finds Allura’s looking back at him. She closes her own eyes, leaning back before he can figure out if she’s seeing what he’s seen. 

As he focuses on her, his eyes falling closed again, the image of Allura holding Lance’s face appears, she leans in for a kiss, her prosthetic holding onto his chin- and then it’s Keith. And they’re on the Marmora base, and when their lips meet everything falls into place. It just feels right. 

_If you really like Keith don’t pretend to date him._

Shiro’s words throw him off. He feels like he’s lost control of his ship, like he’s fighting off empire loyalists with a broken wrist, trying to right the failing thrusters before it crashes, killing him and his crew.

The mind meld breaks. 

The room fills with light.

And Keith is squinting at Shiro.

Who is staring back at Keith.

The mind meld headset sits on Shiro’s head like a crown, his tuft of white hair poking out from underneath one of the sensors. 

‘Keith,’ Shiro exhales, like the air’s been punched out of him.

‘Keith Kogane.’ Coran’s Altean accent cuts across the room. It pulls Keith away from the grey of Shiro’s eyes. 

‘Takashi Shirogane,’ Coran continues. He’s standing in front of Allura, and Keith realizes all the eyes in the room are on them. 

‘I think the two of you should leave,’ he says, softer this time.

Keith watches the way Lance’s gaze flickers between them. He feels his cheeks flush with the realisation that _they all saw everything._ And before he knows it his hands are ripping the mind meld from his head, throwing it onto his chair.

He barely registers Shiro standing up, pulling his own headset off carefully.

He finds Allura, still in her throne through the sea of guests, she doesn’t look shocked like the rest of them. Just slightly amused. 

She mouths _Go_ to him when their eyes meet and Keith nods, and he’s suddenly thankful the chairs are so apart, because he has a clear exit. 

He tries not to run, but he has to get away, has to find somewhere to hide, because now everyone in the room knows. About him, and Shiro, and his _stupid_ feelings for Shiro. _Shiro knows._

He barely notices Shiro placing his headset on top of Keith’s. Doesn’t catch his mumble of, ‘I’m so sorry,’ to Allura. Because all he can hear when he hears Shiro’s voice is _if you really like Keith don’t pretend to date him._

He barely hears Allura’s reply, ‘It’s quite alright, Shiro,’ before he’s out the door. 

Shiro’s words circle around Keith’s head. 

_If you really like Keith._

And then he’s running. Running past the Altean servants, because Shiro doesn’t really _like_ him. He’s made it up, hijacked Allura’s bonding ceremony with a stupid crush. He passes the palace photographer, waiting for the couple and their guests to leave the ceremony. 

_Don’t pretend to date him,_ Shiro’s voice reminds him, and Shiro is right. Keith shouldn’t pretend to date his best friend. 

He keeps running, as if the words are chasing him, as if he’s fleeing empire loyalists, Earth, his grief.

He doesn’t realise he’s outside, in the castle garden, until rain hits him. It’s hard, like tiny pin pricks. 

He has to stop to catch his breath. It comes hard and fast, hurting as he inhales. He looks around, trying to focus on something to get his breathing under control, and his eyes find the tall trees that line the garden. Their branches hang low, creating long shadows, perfect for mission cover. There are arches and alcoves, probably made of the same blinding white stone of the castle. But this evening the rain has stained them a dark grey. 

Keith still hates everything about Altea, except for Allura. But the garden is okay. At least out here he can breathe. At least out here he can think. Even if the rain is already making his clothes feel damp, his hands cold.

* * *

Keith doesn’t know what he had been thinking trying to run from Shiro. It’s like he has a secret _Keith_ sense. It had started with hide and seek: Shiro always found him in a matter of moments, no matter where Keith hid. The day a classmate called Keith an alien Shiro had known exactly which bathroom stall to look in. The night his dad died Shiro had known to head for the hoverbikes, finding Keith crouched between them and the wall, eyes red. He’d always been able to find Keith. 

So he isn’t surprised when Shiro appears in the entrance to the garden, face stricken, panting, and he feels like he’s ten again, playing a game. Thirteen, waiting for Shiro to save him. 

‘Keith!’ Shiro calls, a hand raised above his head, as if it can protect him from the rain. His hands find Keith’s shoulders the minute they’re close enough. Pulling him into Shiro’s chest. Keith can practically hear his heart beating as he bows his head into Shiro’s shoulder.

The rain on Altea is loud, hitting the ground hard and fast. It plasters Keith’s bangs to his forehead. 

‘Keith…’ Shiro pulls Keith back so that he can properly see his face. ‘Did you…?’ he asks, his hands squeezing into Kieth’s shoulders, the right more than the left. Keith knows what Shiro’s asking. 

_Did you see it too?_

He forces himself to nod, watching the way Shiro’s own white forelock drips in the rain.

‘Did you?’ he asks, his voice drowned out by the rain.

Shiro nods. 

Then he pulls Keith in, his prosthetic sliding into place on Keith’s cheek, his other arm finding Keith’s waist. Keith barely has a chance to gasp before Shiro’s lips find his own. He barely registers a thought as he tosses his arms around Shiro’s shoulders. They’re damp, but Keith doesn’t care. 

Shiro is a warm beacon, and Keith presses in closer as the rain falls, drenching them both. He moves to the tips of his toes as Shiro presses firmer, responding to Keith’s willingness.

_It feels right,_ he thinks as Shiro nips his bottom lip. Keith presses in harder, chasing him for more as the rain continues to pelt them both.

When they separate Keith’s lips feel bruised. He stares up at Shiro, whose arms still hold him steady as he falls back onto his heels. His grip on Keith’s cheek is still firm. They’re both breathless. 

‘I thought about you after you left Earth,’ Shiro admits, just loud enough for Keith to hear over the rain. ‘Every day.’ 

His eyes meet Keith’s, his jaw set in determination.

The words blow through Keith. He feels his eyes prickle, and he answers with a different confession.

‘I don’t want to pretend to date you either,’ he says.

Shiro pulls him in again, lifting him off his feet this time. Keith lets Shiro take his weight, his legs snaking around Shiro’s torso. Pulling him as close as he can. 

* * *

Some time during the night the storm breaks. Keith wakes to the bright Altean sunlight streaming into the room from an unclosed curtain, left open in the haste of the night before. It lights up Shiro’s face, gleaming across his prosthetic. Keith had fallen asleep using it as a pillow. Shiro’s other hand still rests around Keith’s waist, holding him in a loose embrace. He never wants Shiro to let go.

He watches the way Shiro’s eyelids flicker against the sunlight. Their bed, Shiro’s bed really, is warm and Keith doesn’t want to leave yet. But Shiro shifts, he untangles their legs before opening his eyes.

They watch each other for a moment, Keith half expecting the whole thing to disappear, for it to be a dream. But then Shiro smiles, and Keith can’t help pushing himself closer, until their lips meet again.

* * *

When they creep out of Shiro’s room, it’s early enough for the sun to still hang low in the sky, even if it is unreasonably bright.

‘We’ll go straight to the dock,’ Shiro whispers as he closes the door behind him. 

‘I can’t believe you made the bed,’ Keith hisses back. It had been Shiro’s idea to message Antok asking for an early pick up. Neither one of them had wanted to face Allura, or her father, or any other guest after yesterday. Not after an entire room of aliens had gotten front row seats into their deepest feelings for each other.

‘It’s rude not to,’ Shiro whispers, pulling Keith down a long corridor by the hand. 

They’d decided an early get away would be the easiest thing, before someone notices the mark sitting just under Keith’s chin. Or the teeth marks peeking out from under Shiro’s collar. Keith is still mortified, but he’d caught Shiro admiring them in the mirror that morning.

They’d agreed they would send a note. A formal apology to Allura and Lance. Keith was sure they’d have to resign their posts as ambassadors too. 

_‘You can’t make the wedding of a Princess all about you and expect to get away with it,’_ he whispered last night to Shiro as they had fallen into Shiro’s bed. Shiro had done his best to kiss the idea away.

As they approach the last corner Shiro pulls him, this time by the waist. Keith can’t think of a moment in the last twelve hours when Shiro hasn’t been touching him. Not that he minds. He wants to feel Shiro’s hands on him all of the time. It makes him feel grounded. They turn the last corner, only to find Allura, Coran and Alfor staring them down.

_Fuck._

‘Gentleman,’ Alfor says, his tone even, his arms folded as he stares them down and they freeze. Shiro’s hand falters on the small of his back. Uncomfortably close to his ass in the presence of King Alfor. _It was closer last night,_ flies through Keith’s mind before Alfor asks his next question.

‘Have we sorted out our feelings?’ he asks, staring down at them like they’re two misbehaving children.

Keith nods. He hears Shiro mumble a ‘Yes sir.’ And he remembers a similar situation, when he was fourteen and Shiro had helped him sneak into the Garrison after hours. Shiro has pulled the same face when his mother had forced him to apologize to Commander Iverson. 

Alfor’s stone cold gaze turns into a smile. ‘I’m glad,’ hee says with a chuckle, and Keith feels his shoulders drop in relief, until Coran opens his mouth.

‘It was a blemish on the princess’s ceremony,’ Coran cries, leaning towards them, his eyes going wide as he speaks. ‘You are lucky we did not have you thrown in the dungeon, y’know.’ He waves a long gloved finger in Shiro’s face, who looks stunned.

‘Of course, the Princess was not deterred, and after you left she was able to-’ Allura pushes them both away, cutting Coran off.

‘Father, it’s fine. Really, haven’t the two of you got better things to do than intimidate my guests?’ she asks, pulling her face into a pout. She’s formidable, even in the face of the king. Coran cracks first, mumbling about breakfast as he turns away. It takes a few more seconds for Alfor to turn too.

Allura waits until they're out of earshot before turning back to Shiro and Keith, cutting off their path to the dock, her smile turning mischievous.

‘So, the seating plan I created for my Earth ceremony was a success?’ She asks, tone light and airy.

Shiro’s jaw drops. Keith has to blink a few times.

‘We weren’t seated together because of that photo?’ Shiro asks, echoing Keith’s exact thoughts. 

‘What photo?’ Allura looks momentarily confused. Like she genuinely doesn’t know about the photo that has haunted Keith for the majority of his life.

‘The one of us as kids,’ Keith says quietly. ‘Children of the coalition?’ 

Allura just stares back at them. Not a hint of recollection on her face. 

‘I don’t know about any photos,’ she says, ‘I just thought the two of you would make a good match,’ she continues, like she’s stating the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Keith needs someone dependable, who can make him laugh,’ she says, meeting Keith’s gaze before whipping her head around to face Shiro. ‘He’s much too serious, you know?’ Shiro nods quickly in agreement, his hand coming to his neck, like he does when he’s nervous.

‘And you Shiro,’ she continues, as Shiro flinches a tiny bit, like she’s about to reveal his darkest secret. ‘You needed someone to fuss over.’

Shiro catches his eye. His cheeks tinged the slightest red.

‘Honestly I had no idea the two of you knew each other. But I’m very glad it worked out,’ Allura adds, giving them a wink.

Keith feels his own cheeks heat up.

He feels like he should thank her, for bringing Shiro back to him. For bringing Keith back to Earth. But he doesn’t know how, not here, on the castle docks. Not when she’s just explained Keith’s needs so perfectly, before he even really understood them.

Shiro’s hand drops from his waist, his palm finding Keith’s.

‘Anyway,’ Allura says before even of them can respond. ‘I think your ride is here.’ She motions to the Galra fighter, just pulling into the docs, before scooting past them, back towards the castle.

‘We’ll double date!’ she calls over her shoulder, as Shiro and Keith watch in bewilderment. 

Shiro’s palm is warm in Keith’s hand. He gives it a squeeze before looking up to find dark gray eyes meeting his own. 

‘I guess Allura will let me know when it’s time to propose then,’ Shiro says with a shrug. But his eyes are soft, the ghost of a grin on his lips. 

Keith elbows him before bursting into laughter, a warm feeling filling his chest as Shiro joins him, pressing a kiss into his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! 
> 
> Although this is the end of the sheithmark fic keep your eyes peeled for a possible bonus chapter in the future!! (after all, one wedding brings another 😉)  
> Huge thank you to @leftishark_ they came up with so many of the best ideas in this fic and you can see [ their beautiful art here](https://twitter.com/leftishark_/status/1356445397405716482)  
> Just as big a thank you also needs to go to @babvfan for helping out with the beta <3


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